


Save the Train, Ride the Conductor

by pony_express



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Chikan, Domestic Fluff, Groping, Long, M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Consensual Groping, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Sex at work, Some Humor, Some Plot, Train Sex, alternative universe, some violence, too many train references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 15:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12235329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pony_express/pseuds/pony_express
Summary: Jensen always wanted to be a train driver when he was kid and part of him would never get over that he was living his childhood dream.





	1. All Aboard!

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this some time ago, during my heavy commuter days, probably while at university. Some events are inspired by real life events; trespasses on the line, trains breaking down in the rain, y'know general railway problems. . . It's been on my Livejournal forever and I wasn't sure in posting it here. But alas, I caved, and here it is. In all it's glory! 25K ish of badly written, Cockles slash in an alternative universe where doughnuts are used and waistcoat kinks are a thing! Enjoy. . . Please?

“Thank you.”

Jensen blushed. His first thank you since he started his new job. Well, still in his first week as a train driver Jensen was bound to have a few firsts, right? He nodded his gratefulness and smiled at the little kid waving him.

Jensen always wanted to be a train driver when he was kid and part of him would never get over that he was living his childhood dream. And how many people can say that? Okay, so he wasn’t saving the world, or being an astronaut, or being radical like that, but it was a job and people did depend on him…Kinda. Commuters and children on day trips for one.

He sighed heavily, and boarded the train to collect his bag. He was off duty for now, so it was off to the staff room and a cup of tea.

There was a few people in the staff room, sat round their flasks. From what Jensen could make out they were chatting away about the ‘change over’ - the part of the long distance journeys were the conductors changed over; something about working hours or something. Jensen’s first few runs this week weren’t long distance, not really, so he’d yet to experience the changeover. A name that stood out, for some reason, was Misha. Jensen found himself distantly wondering about Misha, because really, what kind of a name was Misha anyway. He wondered if he’d ever get the pleasure of having Misha as his conductor. His distant wondering had taken him to the end of his break and his train was just pulling in.

He made his way across the platform. He was greeted with a smile from the driver he was taking over, he just nodded back. But the conductor… The conductor literally bounced off the train. He was all grin and charm. He smiled as he past Jensen and Jensen felt his heart flutter

'Grow up, Jensen’, he thought, 'Yes this is your childhood dream but that’s no excuse for you to be acting like one.’

The man was gorgeous though; that devilish grin would melt any heart, so Jensen decided to forgive himself for his teenage outburst. At least his trousers knew how to behave.

Little did Jensen know that that man was the infamous Misha Collins. In his defence though, Misha wore his uniform standard jacket over his name badge and Jensen was under the impression that Misha was a female. After all, Misha was a ridiculous name, even for a female.

Jensen found the 'two’ people consumed him. This Misha character left him wondering how he’d cope with such shenanigans if the more experienced drivers had issues with 'her’. And the mysterious man at the platform left him wondering all kinds of things he couldn’t put into words. He wanted to know when he’d get the chance to get the man as his conductor. But then that left him wondering how long it’d b before the apparent arsehole, Misha, was his conductor too. And Jensen didn’t want to think of that.

#

Jensen arrived at work the next day and had all but forgotten about the mysterious man. Well, until his train pulled in and duty began, and his usually daily wondering kicked in; who was his conductor today?

He saw the mysterious man making his way across the platform too him. Misha grinned, that devilish grin. Jensen thought that man may have asked him a question but he couldn’t hear over the sound of his heart beat rapidly increasing like the stupid teenager he is. A gust of wind caused Misha’s hair to dance in a panic. Jensen decided the wind in his ear was the reason he couldn’t hear Misha. He also decided to avoid any embarrassment by checking his watch.

“Are you the 11:32?”, Jensen was half expecting it to be a passenger. He smiled, bracing himself for the polite dismissal he’d have to give. But as he lowered his watch, his mouth lowered too. It was the mysterious man who was asking. Jensen knew damn well he wasn’t the 11:32 but wished just as hard that he was. He gulped before replying.

“The 11:37”, he actually sounded sorry about it.

“Oh,” Misha actually looked sorry about it, “Well I’m not, so, yeah. See you around, Jensen.”

The way the mysterious man said his name… It was like heaven. He was fanboying so much it took him too long to realise that it was his name the mysterious man had used. All sorts of questions now danced around in Jensen’s head. He looked down in amazement, spied his name badge silently mocking him. Stood as he was, hands behind his back, jacket blowing in that bitch of a wind, his name tag was clearly visible.

Mystery man reappeared in front of him on the platform just as Jensen came to the obvious conclusion. He’d dropped his bag and stripped off his coat and had a whistle to his lips. Jensen might have taken a minute longer to work that one out. And possibly two minutes to admire the view. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again quickly fearing a verbal keyboard smash.

“I… I didn’t catch your name.”

“Misha,” he grinned back wildly before putting the whistle to his mouth and blowing hard. He winked as he noticed Jensen’s eyes glued to his lips. He boarded the train and was gone leaving Jensen just standing there. A little confused. The only thing he knew for sure was that it was 11:32-ish.

Jensen’s mouth just fell open and close. He couldn’t find the right words and even if he could, who would he tell. Who could he tell(!) He was on the platform all alone. . . Still. Where was his conductor? At least, he thought absently, it gave him something else to think about. A distraction. He checked his watch again. 11:36. Aw well, he was bound to have his first late sooner or later. Why not second week in? Still at least he could stop worrying about Misha and mystery man, since he now knew they were the same person. He was still totally speechless.

“Sorry!” A young girl sounding more or less like Darth Vader between breathes ran up and stopped inches before Jensen. Jensen looked down, shaken out of his distant wondering, to find the girl half smiling up at him, expectantly. Her face was a bright red colour and her fringe was stuck to her forehead with sweat. She had short hair which stopped before her shoulders and wore the standard issue uniform for a conductor on Jensen’s line, but it took Jensen a lot longer to realise she was his conductor.

“It’s okay…” he tried, like words were lost on him.

“I’m sorry I’m late” she breathed.

“I said it was fine” Jensen smiled. He sighed and mumbled, mostly to himself, that the train was late anyways so it didn’t matter if a few passengers got on after 'door close’. The girl disappeared onto the train and came back seconds later stripped of her bag and overcoat, and she held a whistle between her lips - in similar fashion to Misha. That’s when Jensen’s mind began to wonder back to moments before, and how Misha looked with something in his mouth.

“You wanna get on or… ” the girl had dropped the whistle and was now looking at Jensen like he was insane.

“Oh yeah… Sure!” That’s when Jensen realised she was the conductor. The uniform and whistle not giving it away. Boy, Jensen, today was going to be a really long day.

#

Jensen got to the end of his shift. He didn’t know how he survived, but he did. He had even gone the whole day without any more embarrassing moments. He put that down to Misha being off putting, and decided his next shift would go smoother, especially if he didn’t see Misha.

He didn’t see Misha on his next shift, or the next day even. In fact Jensen didn’t see Misha until 3 days after he introduced himself. And even then it was a brief encounter, like the first time he saw Misha from across the side on the other platform. Misha’s shift was just ending, and his was just starting. Misha didn’t see Jensen looking, so with a sigh Jensen got on with his day.

Most of which he spent just wondering about Misha again. Somehow it caused him to arrived 5 minutes ahead of schedule. And that meant 5 more minutes of Misha thinking time. He wondered if Misha was a conductor that stuck to his route. That he only did the express run, and not the Barton line - the line which Jensen shifts seem to centre on. If Misha was a man of habit and stuck to that route then Jensen hadn’t got any hope of having Misha onboard. Not on his current work timetable anyway.

It was the Barton line until mid-October for him. Then it was the Eastern Park line thereafter until Christmas, and that was as far as he knew. It upset him that he may only get little glances at Misha from across the platform and maybe a 'hi’ on the way to the staff room. Mind you, the last four conductors kept to themselves, and Jensen was left alone in the drivers cab, and maybe Misha was the same. Although his reputation said otherwise.

It was the thought of how Misha got that reputation and what would happen if Misha did enter his cab, that kept Jensen staring at the ceiling that night. He tossed and turned, watched a boring TV show, even tried to masturbate in order to get some shut eye, but nothing seemed to work. He couldn’t commit to sleeping with Misha on his mind. So he tried that; sleeping with Misha on his mind.

He woke up some twenty minutes later with serious morning wood; he checked the clock and groaned, it wasn’t even morning. He groaned as he thought back to his dream trying to explain why his inner teenage boy was making a comeback. He remembers flashes; Misha breathing on him, touching him; and it’s not even kinky and rude, Misha’s just giving him a shoulder massage. He groans as he grabs a hold of his cock and starts moving his hand up and down slowly to this images that flash before him.

The scene is grainy, but he knows he’s at work. Misha’s at his feet, those fine lips of his wrap around his cock the same way Jensen’s hand is now and Misha’s deep into the blow job. Jensen can hear himself moaning and isn’t sure if it’s from the dream of from this moment right now. Misha’s lips around that whistle though! Around his cock!

He tugged harder as more images of him and Misha groping, performing oral sex, and even full on sex, at work, in a car (hell, he doesn’t even drive, and hadn’t seen Misha do either), in someone’s house (not his own, he doesn’t recognise the furniture), and even the shower.

A shower! That’s what Jensen needs. A cold one to wash away these thoughts of Misha and to better handle his 'morning wood’ problem. He threw his head back as he pumped his cock faster and faster. Misha winked at him in his mind’s eye, and he felt his hand fill with the warmth of his cum.

He shook himself wake; he’d just masturbated over a guy at work. He knew better than to have a relationship at work; those always ended badly in TV shows, and what’s more, he might have to work with this guy. How could he keep a straight face (or calm cock) knowing he freely gets off just thinking about him winking. And this is Misha, right? Jensen doesn’t know him all that well, but can tell that he’d wink and grope and generally play with Jensen as though he is Misha’s personal fuck toy just for the sheer hell of it.

Jensen felt a mix of terror, guilt and happy. Thoughts of Misha now ran freely through his head; like masturbating about him had opened the flood gates for more images of Misha he kept hidden, or in the “wank bank”. He fell asleep dreaming these scenario’s were Misha would reveal his true reputation and he was one kinky son of a gun. 

#

Jensen finally got to see Misha’s reputation a week later. He’d arrived late to work and had to go straight on board his train for the day. He walked passed Misha without registering that it was him. It was only when Misha blew his whistle and waved a somewhat unusual wave signalling that it was time to leave that Jensen realised who it was. He blushed, and was thankful that he was alone in the cab. It took him too long to realise that that dude was Misha. He was going to be in for another long day and yeah, he was going to blame Misha for that because he was the cause of it last time, and hey, it was Misha. But he had little time to fanboy about it now. Given Misha’s experimental wave had caused some confusion, Jensen was already late. It was only by a minute or two, but time’s time, y'know? And Jensen has people depending on him to be on time. He’s a superhero for the commuters and train spotters the world over, don’t you know?

Misha does his job too. He walks the length of the train actually checking the tickets. Well, he’s not. Not really. It’s his excuse for getting from one end of the train to the other. From where he has to start every journey to where Jensen is.

Jensen drives the train in a somewhat relaxed approach. Well, compared to all the other drivers Misha has walked in on. He looks up, and shocked when Misha just walks right in and sits in the seat across from him. The cab is a little smaller than he’s used too, but then this type of train is smaller. It’s a single carriage, a pacer as known in the industry, and Misha’s been working for weeks on the express line. Now the trains on the express line… Let’s just say they know how to look ever their staff.

“The sign on the door says staff only, and well, I am staff”, Misha smiles, when he realised Jensen was still just staring at him like he kind of shouldn’t be there. Jensen notes Misha puts far too much emphasis on the word staff, but doesn’t call him up on it. Rather replies with a non committal grunt of approval.

“Jeez, if you had such a problem with it, you should have locked the door,” Misha remarks after they sit in silence for a few minutes.

“Well, I… It’s just unexpected is all”

“First time you’ve been gate crashed, huh?”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it gate crashing. You are staff after all” Jensen smiled. He placed too much emphasis on the word staff, mirroring Misha, and it’s not lost on him. Misha giggles.

“Y'know? I like you Jensen.”

Jensen blushes slightly. “Well, erm, thank you, Mish. I like you too”

“Oh, I bet you do” Misha grinned wickedly.

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you have a nickname for me already. Gotta mean something, right?” Misha’s eyes suddenly went dark, but lit up at the same time. He grinned his trademark devilish grin, “I’ve seen the way you look at me. The way you’ve looked at me,” Misha leaned over to whisper in Jensen’s ear. He dropped his voice and made it sound more husky, “when I have a whistle in mouth. The way you stare Jensen. So lost in your own thoughts about how good your cock would look between my lips. My red pumped lips, Jensen”

Jensen felt all hell break loose in his heart, mind and body. Verbal keyboard smashes where too smashed to get out. He’s knuckles had turned pale, which was more than could be said for his face. He literally almost slammed on the brakes when he realised there had to be someone still driving the train. The train jerked violently to a stop.

“Erm, red light,” Jensen mumbled and pointed out of the window, up where he should of been looking, instead of closing his eyes, with his head rolled back, drinking in every dirty word that left Misha’s lips.

Misha slapped his knee playfully, “Good job, old boy”, he smiled. “It’s a good job someone’s paying attention.” Misha leaned over to the other seat, reached for the microphone and made up some excuse as to why the train had suddenly come to a stop.

The signal dropped and so did Misha, back down so his lips were in perfect alignment with Jensen’s ear. Jensen can kind of understand why people felt a little uncomfortable around Misha. The next stop is less than 5 minutes away by Jensen’s guess. He can last 5 minutes without needing to wank off his growing erection or punching Misha in the face and kicking him out the cab, or y'know both. Well, he hopes so anyway. All the same he drops a hint before Misha even opens his mouth to speak.

“We’re coming up to the next stop.” he informed Misha with a tone that hid how shaken his voice actually was underneath, “Shouldn’t you be out doing conductor things?”

Misha just let out a massive breathe. It sounded to Jensen more like a disappointed sigh, and then Misha just left. So then Jensen had little to do but to replay the last few seconds, on loop, in his head until he had to stop at the station. Did that come out harsher than he wanted it too? Or had Misha taken it the wrong way? These questions were only servicing as a distraction and Jensen needed to be on the ball. The station was coming up.

He needed to make this stop smooth, because the last stop he made was brutal and he feared for passenger safety. Well, more so losing his job if the train company got sued for it or something. And he didn’t want to over shoot the platform. Had to time it just right. And now that Misha had left he couldn’t claim he had distractions right?

Of course he landed it perfectly. Like he always does. Hey, he’d been doing this a while now and had never once over shot, mind you he’d never performed an emergency stop in a train before today. First time for everything and all that.

Like, first time for Misha Collins. And yeah, maybe he was enjoying it. Well, if his trousers were to be believed. He could still feel the warmth of his breath on the back and sides of his neck and his hissing in his ear.

Jensen hears Misha’s voice loud and clear declaring the train’s destination, the next stop and that a full ticket inspection will begin momentarily. 'Good,’ he thinks to himself, 'Misha’ll be back soon’ although he doesn’t understand why it’s so important to him. If he’s honest with himself he was a little uncomfortable with Misha being there, and he almost gave half the passengers whiplash.

Misha doesn’t come back though. Jensen waits and waits. Well, he drives the train. And listens out for footsteps while wondering how long it takes to walk a single carriage train. Like there’s little over 40 seats on the old girl. And no doubt most of the tickets have already been given Misha’s seal of approval.

Jensen doesn’t see Misha for the rest of the trip. He spends the remaining 20 minutes of the trip replaying the last few moments with Misha. What he said, he thinks, well, he hopes, it didn’t sound like he wants or likes Misha… Like Misha. Like is definitely the better word here. Despite what his trousers thought, Jensen was almost damn sure he didn’t 'want’ Misha. Not like that kind of want anyway. Just wanted Misha to be his friend. Maybe he’d push it as far too say he needed Misha to be on side. He had no idea why though. Why it was so important to him to have Misha has a friend?

Still, he’s got plenty of time to think about how to work his way back into Misha’s good books. And he’s got the whole of the 15 minute break at Barton to think it over too. Although, he actually really needs a brainwave right now, so he can talk it over with Misha in that break. He’s so lost for words he’d settle for some divine intervention right now.

He pulls into the final station, Barton, and shit! They’re here and Jensen still hasn’t received the epiphany he asked for. Goddamnit! Maybe he should just remain quiet. They still have the 40 minute return journey to talk. Jensen could casually walk over whisper a see me in the cab later and hope that by then the angels of the Lord have shown mercy or taken pity on him.

He kept going back to the question of why though. Like his mind was trying to tell him that Misha wasn’t someone he shouldn’t be getting along with. The more he thinks about it the more he realises that maybe he does want Misha. And, like, actually want like that kind of want. He spent so long after their first encounter calling him mystery man, and even longer mentally keyboard smashing (fanboying) after their first actual meeting. And his lips. Fuck! How did Misha know about that? Had Jensen been that obvious?

He decides not to give it anymore thought. Because, like, how do you even start a conversation like that?

He’s lucky he guesses, because Misha’s walked over to him. Jensen breathed out and smiled. Misha kept walking towards him though, determination written all over his face, and maybe Jensen takes a second to look worried, because yeah he is. Did he really upset Misha that much?

Misha reaches him and grabs his collar, Jensen sees a wicked grin flash across Misha’s face, before his head hits the back wall of the station waiting room. Misha began mumbling in Jensen’s ear again, something about blowing, sucking and just being perfect/ made for cock or something. Jensen’s already so far into the lust fog that he can’t actually make out individual words. Something about lips pumped and chapped. In fact Misha’s going on a lot about lips, from what Jensen can tell.

“You have a lip kink, huh?” Jensen looked at him accusingly. He can’t find the right words to tell Misha that he’s not him whose been banging on nonstop about lips. Misha licks Jensen’s neck which cause the latter to grab hold of Misha’s hand.

“Oh, it’s a hand kink. Right. What are you, some love struck teenager? Into long walks on the beach, holding hands.” Jensen doesn’t answer. Jensen can’t answer.

All words seem to be lost on him. He’s own included. He can’t even verbal keyboard smash, but he’s cock seems to be more than making up for the other functions he lost at Misha’s words. Jensen didn’t hear anymore words, couldn’t even make them out anymore. Had given up in favour of praying that the divine intervention he asked for earlier would come now and prevent Misha from noticing.

“Jensen, you… Oh Jensen, Jensen, Jensen. You really are a teenager, huh?”

Jensen thinks the next words out of Misha’s lush lips (and why is he thinking like that. Misha’s channelling his kinks into him right now) are something along the lines of… Well, to do with coming in his pants, untouched like the teenager he is. But it’s taking all of Jensen’s concentration not too. He bites down hard on his lip.

“Oh, Jensen, no. Don’t do that. Don’t ruin your lips like that. And certainly not before you’ve put them to good use on my cock…”

Jensen mumbled his reply, “Yes, sir”

“Sir? Oh okay, I’ll take that,” Misha grinned before pulling back, “And not because it’s twenty past and you have to get this train out in 4 minutes but because -”

“Fuck!” That seemed to snap Jensen right out of it. Misha just grinned. “I, er… .”

Misha backed off, still grinning as he let go of Jensen’s hand and… Oh, he’d been holding all this time. Jensen straightens, trying his best to adjust his waistcoat and tie. Damn the uniform.

Jensen coughed, “Not without you,” he says. Misha just nods, winks and then vanishes into the train. Jensen takes a little while longer to move. He fears he’s melted into a puddle of the floor and wall. He now doesn’t care if Misha never steps foot in the drivers cab again. Well, actually, if he’s going to continue this little thing he has going on, trying to force his lip kink on Jensen then actually, no; Jensen cannot handle him in the cab, alone. It will certain cause his death and maybe many of the passengers too. He’s job is super important, y'know? He’s gotta get the passengers to their destinations in one piece.

Back in the cab, and alone, Jensen realises he’s pining for Misha. Misha’s kept super busy with the passengers though. A broken ticket machine at one of the stations is the first problem Misha has to deal with. 20-something passengers all in need of a ticket and his portable ticket machine device thingy has decided it only wants to print half those tickets. Then there’s the usual single mother with pushchair that will not go down into the more compact storage version, and the elderly, and the kid that wants to be a 'big kid’ and get off the train all by themselves, but then panics when they realise the distance from the train to the platform is bigger than they first thought and they need a helping hand.

Jensen knew he shouldn’t get jealous. Misha’s only doing his job after all. But he wishes he could just miss out the stops he can see will bring these problems to Misha. Not that Misha views them as a problem. He sees that for once he’s actually earning his wage. Rather than just sitting on his hands like he usually does. Jensen would often catch sight of Misha when he was preparing to leave the station. Misha would raise his hand in experimental gestures to inform him he was 'clear for takeoff’ so to speak. Jensen was upset that the whistle had gone. But actually, if it kept him from thinking about Misha’s lips then he was cool with that.

Jensen, actually, didn’t want to think about anything. His thoughts had often left him panicking over what he would do or say if Misha was left alone by the passengers long enough for him to enter the cab. He asked the question, what do I say? way too many times today, and never once heard a response. He was beginning to hate it. He was rarely lost for words which made it more frustrating.

#

When they do make it back to the other side, Misha devoids himself of any further duties as per his job. Back to the old Misha. He obviously feels the company and the passengers got their money’s worth out of him today already. Although, he does help one passenger off, from what Jensen can tell. If that passenger needed or wanted the help is another matter entirely. He grabbed his bag and coat, but doesn’t even bother to put it on despite the mid-Autumn wind, and literally ran into the staff room. Jensen’s left a little confused. But he guesses if you gotta go, you gotta go. Can’t flush a toilet on a train when it’s stationary.

Jensen suddenly finds himself playing out the conductor role. He helped 3 kids off the train and when all the passengers had left, he began a quick sweep of the carriage, checking for anything to be put in the lost property box, removing any unwanted tickets and just generally checking the train was fine. He’s sure there are cleaners that can do this job, and maybe better. But this train is due out again in 10 minutes and even if you had all the cleaning products in the world you wouldn’t be able to clear her spotless in that time. And if Jensen can get it half way decent for that journey, the conductor and driver who are taking it for that trip might at least be thankful - and it’s time away from Misha, which he is thankful for.

The train is then stormed by three man, who do actually mistake him for being the conductor. He’s already about ready to explain the route, and code of carriage, because the automated system is down (again!). But he can see from the look on one of them that they won’t be interested in that. He’s right. They’re demanding money from him. This is a robbery!

It took Jensen the split second he has before his lights are knocked out to realise that Misha ran off to deal with the takings and not an overactive bladder. Jensen, now bleeding from his lip, shakes as he tried to stand and explain that he’s just the driver, and that no money ever passes his hand, but it doesn’t appear to help him avoid a second punch. Jensen gave up the explanation and with that his lunch money.

“£2.10” the robber looks at it in mock amusement. He repeated the statement a few times over like he’s never heard of it before, and Jensen decided it was best not to explain about the local shop’s meal deal.

“It’s all I have, honest. It’s my lunch money”, he explained.

“This isn’t a school playground, mate”, another spat bitterly.

“Of course not, but it is honestly-”

“Shut up!”

“Yes, okay, sorry, I-”

“I said shut up!”

Jensen made the motion to zip his mouth up. He has no idea why and in hindsight it wouldn’t have been wise to piss these guys off anymore than he already had done by not being a conductor. And a conductor with more than lunch money.

“Cocky bastard!”

Jensen gulped. He prayed to every and any God who’ll listen. Nevermind about before, he whisperd to himself, I need help right now. The last punch had really hurt, but it hadn’t caused him to bled. His lip had stopped bleeding for what he could tell, as well. The guy facing him nodded to one behind, and Jensen found himself turning to see why. He was meet with another blow to the face. That one knocked him out, well, he banged his head on an arm rest as he fell down, and that’s what actually causes him to blackout.


	2. The next stop is by request only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not a school girl," Misha thought, "and neither is…Wait, yes, maybe Jensen is. . ."
> 
> Jensen's ready to return back to work, but without Misha. How does he cope?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings and spoilers: Jensen’s in the hospital which might be a trigger for some! :/ Jensen is subjected to some sexual harassment which might be considered rape since he doesn’t know who it is at the time… Works it out later and enjoys it! I just put Jensen through hell! D: Sorry Jensen. There’s Benedict… I feel there should be a warning for him! Semi-public sex!/exhibitionism kink…
> 
> Previously;  
>  _The guy facing him nodded to one behind, and Jensen found himself turning to see why. He was meet with another blow to the face. That one knocked him out, well, he banged his head on an arm rest as he fell down, and that’s what actually causes him to blackout._

In the ambulance, the paramedics are dashing around Jensen and Misha can’t even look. He doesn’t understand why he kicked up so much fuss, demanding to go with Jensen. Well, he does, guilt. He feels nothing but guilt; his silly plan is worth nothing if it means this.

The female paramedic knelt by Jensen’s side is trying to tell Misha something and in all honestly, he doesn’t want to know. She faced him and told him directly something about not being able to find a vein or something, and Misha gets it; he understands her room is stressful and-

“Can you talk to him-?”

“Me?” he questioned, pointing at himself.

“No, the band aids in the draw behind you, of course you!”

It made Misha smile to know that despite her stress, the paramedic can still crack a joke.

“Waah-What do I say?”

“Anything”

“But he can’t hear me, right?”

“He’s drifting in and out of consciousness so he might be able too. But if he can, it’ll give him something to focus on,” she smiled.

“Erm, okay,” Misha shuffled forward a little more, “Erm, hi, Jensen,” he half smiled, “It’s me, Misha” He really doesn’t know how to start, so why not start like a telephone conversation?

“Missssh-ha” Jensen repeated, breathing heavily like it’s his last breath on Earth. Misha felt what he can’t explain. What is it? Does that have a word? Is it painful for Jensen to speak? Is Jensen now thinking about him? Too many unanswered questions swirl around his head, and his stomach has that knot in again that he refers to as guilt. He’d been smiling, and not his usual devilish grin, but a kind of blushful smile, as the paramedic put it. Misha blushed a little.

“I… I don’t know what else to say.”

“Then hold his hand, just do something to let him know you’re there.”

“Hold his hand?” Misha’s eyebrow quirked. _"I’m not a fucking schoolgirl," Misha thought, "and neither is…Wait, yes, maybe Jensen is. . . Oh and his hand. Right!"_ That brought a smile to his face, thinking about how much like a schoolgirl Jensen was.

“Hah-Hand”, Jensen mumbled, bringing Misha from his thoughts.

“Jensen?” he questioned, diving forward and grabbing Jensen’s hand. He squeezed it.

“Hand”, Jensen repeated.

“I’m here” Misha smiled, gripping a little tighter.

“Here…and here and all over”

Misha naturally presumed Jensen was referring to the pain he was feeling, until Jensen repeated the words again. This time he repeated all the words he’d said in the ambulance and in the order he’d said them.

“Mish-ha, ha-hands, here…”

“I was right,” Misha smiled, “You do have a hand kink!”

“H-h-here…”

“Where?” _Where are my hands Jensen? Were you dreaming about my hands Jensen? Jensen, that’s adorable._ Misha wants to tell Jensen all the things he’s going to let Jensen do with his hands, and all the things Misha’s going to do with his hands anyway, but he remembered where they are and that Jensen is probably thinking he’s dreaming. He wants little more than to hear Jensen’s reply. But he understands why he can’t.

#

At the hospital Misha left the nurse and doctors to tend to Jensen while he lets his mind run away with itself in the waiting room. He’d been given an amazing opportunity to see inside Jensen’s head. And yeah, he’d been right about the hand kink, but actually if he thought about it he felt nothing but guilt for knowing that. It was like reading someone’s secret diary or something, y'know? He shouldn’t know what he knows about Jensen’s dreams. And given how Jensen ended up in that state… If only he’d done his job.

His job. Fuck! His job. He’d left that as soon as Jensen had. Thankfully he had a 3 hour break before his next shift, but this is not how he’d planned to spend those 3 hours. Should he even go back to work? He’d no idea how much time had passed. How much time had he spent with or daydreaming about Jensen?

“Erm, excuse me, please,” Misha found himself at the reception desk, making his excuses to leave. He went to see Jensen before he left, and made a note to seek out the nurse in charge of his care and tell her he’d be back later. He had no idea why. Why he’d do that, or why he’d come back after shift. Maybe guilt. Either way he had to get out of there, for now. For air. And because honestly, he had a job to do. It was him not doing his job properly in the first place that had lead to this.

His job, then, may become a distraction to this. And that’s what he needs. People do that though, don’t they? Throw themselves back into word as a distraction. Only they do it when they lose someone they love, and Misha hadn’t lost Jensen yet. Well, he never really had him, and you’ve have to come back to ask him later if it was love, because right it was just another question that lead to the twist of his stomach; lead to guilt.

Part of Misha felt that work would only throw more questions about Jensen at him. Or give him memories, and daydreams about him. He’d no idea if Jensen had a second shift that day and if he had, was it the same shift as him. And really, he didn’t want to know. Jensen wasn’t there. He couldn’t be there. And it was all his fault. If he’d done his fucking stupid job. No, don’t call it that. It was this fucking stupid job that introduced him to Jensen in the first place and maybe if he’d played it better Jensen could have been the best thing that ever happened to him. And hey, it still might. _Just stop thinking what if’s, you have a job to do._

He preferred it when he didn’t have to worry about Jensen’s subconscious ramblings and possible concussion. He liked worrying about if Jensen would like the pie flavour he’s (somewhat) forced a female work colleague to make for him. Yeah, that’s why he’d ran off at the end of his shift. Went to check on the pie. Wanted to spend that 3 hours getting to know Jensen. It was a ridiculous idea now. Jensen was unconscious and the pie probably burnt. Was it really worth it?

Misha realised he’d had plenty of time to ponder that question has he found himself back at work. Well, the staff room door, with little memory of how he got there. Like he was dreaming this. He’d been running on autopilot; letting his body take over while his mind drifted. He kind of hoped this was all a dream.

The melancholy in the air of the staff room slapped him straight in the face, so that’s a no to this being a dream then. Maybe autopilot will kick in again and he’ll get to the end of his shift pretending he’s just fine.

#

Misha got to the end of his shift, running on autopilot, being distracted by the same old places, with the occasional old face; daily commuters, etc. He decided the only way to take his mind of things is to go visit Jensen.

Jensen’s fine, as it turns out. Misha’s thankful he doesn’t have to deal with the sight of tubes and the sound of machines beeping all round Jensen. Jensen’s awake, so thankfully he doesn’t have to deal with further unconscious rambles. He found talking to him a lot easier than he imagined. 

Misha felt so guilty when he has to leave. He was enjoying the conversation, although he had lied to Jensen. Lying to himself was something but lying to Jensen was another thing. When Jensen asked if he’d said anything, Misha lied. Although the words had been playing on his mind, sometimes in loop, ever since they left Jensen’s lips. Oh, Jensen’s lips…

_'Misha. Hand. Here.’_

The more Misha thought about it, the more he realised they were just his own words repeated back at him.

"Hey, it’s me, Misha. . . Hold his hand?…I’m here"

It was a sad painful truth. And Jensen didn’t need to know. It had made Misha happy. Made him able to sleep happy for 2 nights after masturbating over it until he was almost spent. And that was something Jensen definitely didn’t need to know.

Misha visits Jensen again - it’s pretty much all he can do. A mixture of guilt and boredom. No, not boredom. He likes spending time with Jensen. And he’d probably found out a lot more about him than he would have done over a burnt pie and an hour’s lunch break.

Misha asked absently if Jensen’s had any visitors apart from him, after noticing the grapes. Considers bringing Jensen some of his own. But they’d be red in colour, completely crushed and in a glass bottle. After Jensen tells him his mum and sister visited, Misha vocalised his previous thought. Jensen’s laugh helped wash that tiny bit of guilt Misha felt for having Jensen’s family see him like that away. Like that… Misha makes it sounds like Jensen’s breathing out of tubes with machines beeping around him. When actually, he’s sat up in bed, perfectly fine, just a small cut to his bottom lip and similar one above his left eyebrow.

Jensen’s more than overjoyed when he tells Misha he can go back to work - there’s been no lasting damage and Jensen can go back to work if he feels up to it, almost as soon as he’s discharged from hospital. Misha looked glum; he smiled weakly as he replied how awesome that is. It was not lost on Jensen;

"What is it Mish? What are you not telling me?”

“When we… When you go back it’ll be without me”

Jensen raised an eyebrow in question.

“They’re decided that we can’t work together-”

“What?”

“At least for a little while”

“How long?”

“How long’s a piece of string!? Look Jensen, it’s not my idea and -”

“Well, then, I’ll change my duties!” Jensen declared suddenly. It was Misha’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I’ll change my duties so they match yours, because I can’t not have you on board my train again… Even if it leads to this…” Jensen gestured to his bottom lip and hospital bed and Misha felt that little something in his stomach that he’s named guilt. “I know Benedict likes morning shifts.” Jensen informed Misha so matter of fact like.

“Yeah…” Misha sounded very non-committal, “Look, Jensen, I have… to be going now” Jensen’s face made Misha regret the statement straight away but he’d committed himself to it, so continued, “…visiting hours are almost over.”

“Mish, you make it sound like a prison”

“Isn’t it?” Misha opened his mouth before thinking again, and again regretted it instantly. “Sorry” he whispered, mostly to the floor.

“It’s alright, Mish. I’m safe in the knowledge that tonight’s my last night here,” he half smiled.

“And I mean, sorry for all this too”

“Misha!” We’ve been through this. It’s not your fault"

“But it is… I never should have left!”

Jensen sighed; this was the fourth time he’s heard this. And he guessed it’s Misha’s way of dealing with any guilt he felt. Like he should be there instead of Jensen. “It doesn’t matter now”

“It does. I want you to know that the only reason I left was to go check on the pie.” Oh, that information was new. Normally Misha just repeated his apologies over and over, offering little in way of explanation.

“Pie?” Misha swore Jensen’s face lit up.

“Yeah, I made one of the girls put it on so it’ll be ready by the time we got back from Barton. Was gonna be a surprise. A treat. A way to get to know you…” Misha pulled face, Jensen could tell was a cross between regret (for what happened) and relief (for getting that out).

Jensen smiled, then laughed, “Oh Mish, that’s… that’s so kind and thoughtful.”

“Was it? Really? I mean, was it worth getting knocked out for?”

“Actually, I think we’re spent more time together this way. And it’s a story to tell, right?”

“Right,” Misha smiled.

“And you forcing one of the girls to make the pie” Jensen giggled.

“I paid her well, I’ll have you know.”

“In winks and gropes?”

“Hey, we all have our kinks!” Jensen nodded, still laughing. “Speaking of which,” Misha continued after a small cough. Jensen looked the very picture of alert; like a puppy dog, eyes focused on Misha’s, ears pinned back. _'No, no, Misha…No. Don’t ruin this… Just don’t…’_ He bit his lip before speaking out loud; “I really should be going.” _'Oh, well played, Misha!’_

Jensen gave a glum look but smiled and said his goodbyes all the same. Then the strangest thing happened, Misha stood up and kissed Jensen’s forehead, and Jensen just sat there, taking it; no questions, no pulling faces. Just smiled through it. Neither party said anything as Misha walked away. Too many things, and not enough. Verbal keyboard smashes and unanswered questions of why and what if their only company for the night ahead.

#

Jensen’s back at work the next day, working alongside Benedict. _Benedict though! What kind of a name is Benedict anyways?_ It’s like you can only get a job here if you have an unusual name or something. He’d never met a John or a Jane since he started here. So he works alongside Benedict just catching little snippets of Misha from across the platform and in the staff room between shifts. The time they spent together becomes few and far between. A week of shifts with Benedict has his conductor passed, thoughts of Misha were still present at night, but absent, like Misha was, at work.

Since he was staff Jensen could travel for free on trains for the company he worked for (50% off all other train company fares, if you’re interested). And this came in handy especially since he lived so close to the train station of his hometown, which was on the main line. All trains stopped there, from the express to the pacer. It made the commute for work far cheaper and quicker. Since (for the express at least) it was only the second stop from the train company headquarters and staff room. The 'base’ as it was known to the drivers. Unless he was the first train out, but even then he could walk the route in under half an hour.

After his final shift of that day, Jensen planned to take advantage of his staff discount, as he did most days. Benedict had gone to do conductor stuff - Oh, Misha! Jensen took a second to think about him. His thoughts are broken by Benedict.

“You done for today?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Not yet”

Jeez, the conductor morning shifts were hard work. “You taking her back?”

“Indeed” smiled Benedict and disappeared aboard the train. _Indeed_ repeated Jensen in his head. _Indeed. Who the fuck says indeed in place of a simple yes? People called Benedict that’s who. So upper class it hurts! Like you can’t even call him Benny, or Ben; it’s Benedict or nothing. Fucking pompous twat!_ Oh.  


It was that moment the automated platform announcement informed him of the next time to leave. He could have gone back with Benedict. _Goddamn Benedict!_ Still, it was only a few minutes until the next train, and it was the express so he picked up his bag and made his way over to that platform.

He boarded the train with holidaymakers, many of whom had mistaken him for the conductor. Not that he minded, it was in his nature to help and he knew this run (although he’d never driven it himself) and really it was his only fault for not taking off his work tie and name badge. He stood up in the vestibule - no need to sit down when he’s only going one stop afterall.

As he felt the train move, an arm wormed its way around his middle and he felt a finger dance along the buckle of his belt. He turned to look but was forced (almost slammed) into the luggage rack. Jensen felt the train accelerating and wasn’t sure if it was that or his attacker who was responsible for the pain in his nose. It did appear to be that one was working with the other. As the train sped up, the more grabby… needy… demanding the hands became.

Jensen had frozen. He’d no idea why. He wasn’t about to stand there and let himself be groped. Well, apparently he was. He found there was something oddly familiar about the touch. Or maybe it was the smell. Or the carriage The view. His senses seemed to be all over the place and heighten. His nerve endings of fire. The lights seemed blinding. The train was speeding. He could hear whispers - was that…? Passengers? The attacker? His…Yep, it was his zipper.

The hand wasted no time diving into his pants. He felt a knee push apart his thighs, and his nose once more went into the glass panel. He was already half hard from the hands teasing strokes. It stroked his length while warm breath glided over his neck. And still, he couldn’t shake the feeling he knew the touch. It kept him distracted while the hand worked him to full hardiness and he felt small droplets of pre-cum leaking out.

He couldn’t place it. Why couldn’t he place it? He had a moment of reflection before a particularly strong tug - _a tug for fuck sake, go easy, we’re in public_ -brought him back there. To that warm touch. The feel of the breath. The strong pushing. The neediness. The relentless groping he was receiving, and maybe if he admitted it to himself, actually quite enjoying.

This kind of thing was supposed to happen to Chinese school girls on the school run in porn, right?

He knew his stop was only 12 minutes away from base, but this journey seemed double that and then some. He couldn’t work out whether he wanted the train to go slower or faster. He didn’t want to spill his load before his stop like a teenage boy; coming on touch alone. But he kind of needed too. Otherwise it’ll be embarrassing. Although he could over run his stop, it’s free from him to travel anyway so…

He bit his lip holding back a whine. A little whimper escaping now would surely signal the end. It would alert the passengers and they didn’t need to see this. There was kids on board after all. And then, maybe, they’d alert the conductor and… Where the fuck was the conductor? Who the fuck was the conductor?

New questions to circle his mind. Hopefully finding answers will help him break through the lust fog that had descended. It was a familiar question (like the touch), it was one he’d ask daily, at work, while secretly praying it was Misha. Misha! Oh, if Misha could see him now, what would he say? He felt a blush from his cheeks down his chest just at the through. Biting his lip hard. Misha would tug it out for sure… That moment replayed in his mind. Barton. Misha! A look across to the window and a hazy reflection confirmed it and Jensen verbalised it through laboured breaths.

“Hey baby!”

Jensen relaxed into the strokes a little. He no longer cares if he comes now. He feels the train slowing. It’ll be less embarrassing this way. He’s sure he can cope better with Misha winding him up than the alternative.

“You gonna come for me, boy, huh?”

Jensen bites down harder on his lip; “Miss-ss-Maa-ish!”

“Come on, you have to paid for your ride and someone told me you don’t have a ticket…”

“I’m staff” Jensen managed to breath out.

“Then you’re familiar with the code of carriage and I shouldn’t need to remind you the penalty for knowingly travelling without a ticket” Jensen doesn’t need to be facing Misha too know he’s smirking through every word.

“But with my staff discount…”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir!” Misha turned Jensen around to face him. He looked Jensen in the eye and with a devilish grin informed him; “I have no change. I’ll have to owe you.”

“It’s alright, Mish -” Jensen began before Misha slammed into his lips. Jensen moaned into the kiss, which Misha then almost instantly broke off.

“Careful now Jen, you don’t want to alert the whole carriage to what’s going on here… Unless you do” Misha raised an eyebrow in a silent dare. Jensen opened his mouth to speak but couldn’t find the right words so closed it again, “Ah! All this time I thought you had a hand kink and really it’s exhibitionism, huh? That’s why you’re so hard now.”

Jensen’s cock chose that moment to twitch, like it’d forgotten how hard it was until Misha had said.

“Mish-ah” Misha leaned forward into Jensen, the rough feel of his uniform standard trousers causing friction against Jensen’s cock.

“You better put that away!” Misha winked and Jensen felt the train slowing, “We are approaching your stop after all.”

Jensen looked down, his breathing was calming down, but not fast enough. He needed… Well, he didn’t know.

“ _Ladies and gentleman, this train will shortly be arriving-_ ” 

Jensen stood there for a moment more. It felt like forever had passed. Misha had gone. He looked around some passengers were making their way to the door nearest to him. He quickly adjusted himself and hurriedly grabbed his bag. He put it in front of him, hoping it would hide his shame. He smiled weakly at a female passenger who was starting at the unusual way he was holding his bag. A slight blush on his cheek. Neither said a word.  


Jensen’s mind began to wonder how much she know, how much Jensen had somehow let out. Had she seen? Had anyone seen? The automated announcement was reminding passengers about the use of CCTV - answering Jensen’s question. And fuck who had they been giving a show too.

Now off the train, Jensen found his mind replaying that question when a hand clasped on his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry” a voice was saying, “I changed my duties with Benedict like you suggested and tomorrow I’m more than sure I’ll have enough change to repay you for the, erm, mishap.” It took Jensen a while to match the voice to a face and by the time he had, the train had left. Misha along with it. _Oh_. He stood on the platform for a moment before he twitched, feeling wetness between his legs; pre-cum. Staff toilets. And quick.

In the cubicle, Jensen found his mind replaying the last 15 minutes on loop. There wasn’t one time, Jensen thought absently that that happened a lot around Misha. No matter what Misha did it replayed on Jensen’s mind, over and over. He cursed the train for not going fast enough at the time, willing it along with his mind so the attack on his cock would stop (that he still had to fix. Goddamn Misha!) But now, now he wondered if Misha was right. Was he turned on by the whole idea of them being caught? The very idea that someone may have gotten off to them sort of turned him on, but also worried him. How needy did he look?

Once he stopped worrying about that, took seconds actually, he set to work. His mind now set on thoughts on what Misha meant by repaying him the favour. And how he’d do it? It being Misha and all, he could think of a great many ways, all sexual of course, and it helped. He bit down hard on his lip for the second time that day, almost causing it to bleed. Misha may have a exhibitionism kink; he was doing that transferring thing, like he did with the lips, so naturally, Jensen’s thoughts turned to that. And those 15 minutes on the train.

He came hard into his hand with thoughts of Misha pushing him up against a wall, a door, it wasn’t too clear which; the lust fog clouding his mind. He didn’t really care. Most of the time he spent with Misha was him being pushed against a wall or door, or something. Just a lot of pushing. Maybe that was Misha’s kink…


	3. The Train Doesn’t Stop There Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, Jensen’s a superhero y'know? Can’t show pain in front of your adoring public, right? And if there’s a chance someone else is in danger you don’t give in. That’s just the way Jensen was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex at work. Semi-public sex - I guess, kinda, maybe! :/ Trigger for anyone hit by a train - there’s a J-Walker on the rails… Jensen is subjected to more sexual harassment… Sorry, Jensen! :/ Misha actually does his job! I know shocker!
> 
> Actual event; trains are always delayed! When fit conductors are aboard wearing waistcoats this is legit what happens! I was the victim of a broken down train at 07:00 the other week, and the conductor was super professional and really cold because it started to rain and all… There aren’t enough train references to use as titles!
> 
> _Previously;  
>  He came hard into his hand with thoughts of Misha pushing him up against a wall, a door, it wasn’t too clear which; the lust fog clouding his mind. He didn’t really care. Most of the time he spent with Misha was him being pushed against a wall or door, or something. Just a lot of pushing. Maybe that was Misha’s kink…_

The next day Jensen found himself at work half an hour early. He was running on the adrenaline caused by the excitement of the mystery of Misha fucking Collins. He remembered how Misha had said he’s swapped his shift with Benedict so Jensen had the whole journey there and back to be given his reward. Although Misha had actually began working properly since Jensen’s… incident. So he was either going to be harassed cab or if Misha’s new leaf was well and truly turned over then a surprise was waiting for him at Barton. Maybe pie…

Misha arrived 10 minutes early, apparently he was committed. A yes to the pie then. He doesn’t actually say much to Jensen with regards to the ‘favour’. In fact he doesn’t say much at all. Doesn’t really acknowledge him directly and Jensen does nothing about it - puts it down to Misha not being a morning person. As far as he’s aware, this is Misha’s first early shift. Or this is Misha, maybe it’s all part of his plan.

Jensen found that Misha wasn’t that committed to this new leaf after all. He and Misha shared a lovely conversation. Misha not groping him, not touching him in any way actually; not even the accidental finger or knee brushing. Misha’s conversation wasn’t even stirred that way. He was actually talking. It’s like a blend of the Misha from the hospital and the 'real’ work (or rather not working) Misha.

Misha sits shotgun for a while before randomly declaring conductor duties must be attended too, and Jensen just smiled. Misha’s back in seconds; there’s no way he’s checked every ticket. There’s no way he’s walked the length of the train in the time he was gone, but Jensen says nothing when he returns.

Misha leaves again at the next stop but doesn’t come back this time. Jensen’s not upset. It just convinces him further that there’s something at the end of the line for him. And hey, Misha’s doing his job. Jensen slowed down the train unsure of the upcoming signal’s meaning. The sun's reflection isn’t making it easy for him. He stopped. Figured that’s what the signal wants him to do, and of course, it’s the safest option.

“Jensen, this is a funny place to stop.”

Jensen smiled brightly as Misha stood in cab doorway, “Hey, if the signal say stop, I stop. There’s probably no space on the platform at the moment. I don’t know, the signal doesn’t give me an explanation. Just tells me to stop and go.” 

“Or y'know we’ve been sidelined for the express”

“Maybe. Like I said all I know is I have to stop, so I have. Just doing my job, like you should be” Jensen smiled. Misha smiled back then it was like the words finally sank in.

“Hey! I’ve been doing my job. I have other duties to perform.” Misha wiggled an eyebrow, “A duty to the driver.” Jensen gulped.

“You-”

“Hey, all I’m saying is we have the time, the space, each other. We have all we need. Everyone else on the train has 'in flight entertainment’” Misha threw up air quotes, “but you”, he winked. Jensen turned to him, eyebrow quirked. Misha gave him puppy dog eyes.

“And you thought you’d be mine…”

Misha pointed and winked at him, “Right on” he grinned.

“Misha…” Misha took a step further, “No, come on, we have -”

“Jensen, does that mean -?” Jensen looked up at the signal, assuming that Misha was referring to that.

“It does,” Jensen said, “Haven’t you got passengers to help off or something?” Jensen asked cheekily.

“I’ll check”, smiled Misha, his disappointment betraying him.

“It’s only doing your job and you know what happens if we don’t do our job?”

“I like the very end outcome,” Misha smiled in reflection.

“Me too” Jensen smiled, “We’re coming into land.” He kept up with the aeroplane references much to Misha’s delight. “Do your stuff!”

“You love it when I do…” Misha stuck his tongue out and swung about himself a little. It didn’t go unnoticed.

“Stop it” Jensen chuckled and when Misha continued added, “Passengers!”

Misha didn’t come back. Not even after the stop. Or the next one. Jensen’s not worried, well, he wasn’t until the next stop. He pulls up perfectly. Three passengers move forward to get on the train. One on them pressed the button on the door that opens them, repeatedly. Jensen opened the cab window to check for Misha’s unconventional hand gestures signaling it’s time to go and was met by a passenger looking more than pissed(if that was possible). Jensen couldn’t hear what she was saying exactly but the way she was pointing at the door gave him a good idea.

“I don’t… I can’t open the doors from here. The guard does it. THE GUARD DOES IT!”

The woman nodded but continued to press the button. Jensen feels every part of him convey annoyance. Then worry. Why hadn’t Misha done his job? Oh, maybe he was on the phone arranging pie to be at Barton. That made him half smile. But the worry, the unanswered question of what was up with Misha clouding his mind.

Pulling up at Barton, Jensen found himself once again questioning how to start a conversation like this. Seemed to be a reoccurring theme around Misha. Hopefully divine intervention will make Misha speak first, like last time… And every time. But it didn’t. Not for the first time divine intervention had failed him. Karma’s a bitch.

Misha was sat on the wall swinging his legs humming an unknown tune. He looked cute, no… erm, innocent… Not a word anyone would use for Misha, no, no, he look like… Jensen gave up. Why should he even bother trying? Him and words had a love/hate relationship when he was around Misha.

“Mish?” Fuck! Where did that came from? He better think something up now. Misha’s looking at him, all senses alert and Jensen’s just got nothing. He sounded so needy in his questioning. Like it was of some importance or relevant, and all he really wanted was to say hi. So he did.

“Hi” he waved his hand. Misha waved back grinning.

“Hey Jensen”

“I, erm…” (have nothing…)

“It’s okay Jensen. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Sorry for what? I was a little short with you, I guess. I’m sorry you took it that way. I only meant it jokingly.”

Misha just stared at his feet. “Mish…?” Jensen edged closer. He couldn’t find the right words, didn’t even try too. Just went in for the kill, so to speak. He wrapped his arms around Misha’s middle. Misha spread his legs almost automatically as Jensen approached. Misha rested his head on Jensen’s shoulder. Jensen had no idea where to go from here. This was very un-Misha-like. Maybe that’s what his reward was? The other side of Misha?

“You are…” he began not really knowing where to go from there, “and will always be…” Jensen had begun stroking his hair, “forgiven. Truly forgiven, Mish.”

Misha stopped humming, his legs stopped swinging in favour of wrapping around Jensen’s waist, pulling him closer. He moved his hands up to Jensen’s face. Cupping it, Misha looked him directly in the eyes and said;

“Oh my dear Jensen, you have no idea what you’re forgiving me for.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to lose you.”

“But I don’t want to use you”

“You don’t, and even if you did, well, I let you so, so it’s really my fault -”

“Jensen. Jensen, listen to me”

“No, you listen because I’m not losing you to this…” Jensen has no words, so left it at that. He’s sure Misha’ll understand. It’s Misha who hasn’t named it so it’s going to be called 'this’. “…this. I miss you. Proper you. And however freaking cute you look and sound right now, Misha, I’d rather have you, pranks and gropes and all.”

“That’s very kind of you Jensen, but -”

“But nothing. I only want you!”

“Will you let me finish?” Jensen bit his lip, in a bid to stop more words falling out. “Please, don’t -” Before Misha can finish Jensen’s released his lip. Misha stares at him for a moment, shakes his head and mumbles; “It’s like you know me so well.” But mostly to the floor.

“Not well enough, apparently” Jensen whispered.

“In time Jensen, all in good time.”

“We have all the time in the world -”

“We don’t. We’re 5 minutes late already!”

Jensen doesn’t seem to care. It’s very un-Jensen-like; he thinks his job is nothing short of being a superhero. Mind you, Misha has been quiet and as done his job properly more than twice in one trip and Jensen just declared his love for Misha… Not a lot of things that were happening today were normal for Jensen and Misha alike.

“Jensen, you are going to have to let go y'know!” Misha mumbled as Jensen hugs tighter, “People are relying on us to be on time.”

That seemed to do the trick. Jensen let go; he’s superhero power was tingling, or whatever it is it did. He groaned stepping back a little, only to find Misha’s put more pressure into squashing Jensen between his thighs.

“And you me” he whispered in Misha’s ear.

Misha dropped his legs allowing them to swing back and forth for a moment before jumping down and landing inches away for Jensen’s feet. Misha looked up at him hopeful. Jensen grinned before leaving to get on the train.

“Jensen?” Misha sounded as soft and as needy as Jensen had when he called Misha’s name moments before.

“We’re late, Mish…”

“Actually we’re not,” Misha called out. Jensen turned to look at Misha, mouth wide open throwing the most hurt looking and explanation wanting face Misha had ever since. to which he just grinned. “We’re sorta a few minutes early, but hey, I wanna get back to base before all the doughnuts go,” and he stuck his tongue out. For the second time that day Jensen’s whole body conveyed annoyance.

Aw well, he thought, at least it’s better than being late. They could talk over doughnuts back at base and everything will be rainbows and unicorns, like in the movies. And hopefully there’s not burnt pie. Yes. Jensen decided that’s the real reason they have to leave. So Misha can ring base, the signal their on their way and the pie can be baked.

Those thoughts didn’t last for long though, as pulling into the next stop on the route Misha pulled the same stunt as on the way down; he hadn’t released the door mechanism. Jensen now began to worry and wonder. Misha swapped his shift for this?! And now both of them were subjected to 40 minutes of over-thinking time. The mystery of Misha, it would appear, never ends.

Maybe answers would come in the next 40 minutes, or if Misha was following Benedict’s timetable from last week… If Jensen can remember, he’s sure he and Benedict did two full runs, so that’s 80 minutes and the 10 minutes down time in between. Either an hour and a half of over thinking or of Misha… And well, doing his job (or trying too).

Jensen guessed Misha saw work as a welcome distraction to whatever it was that was bothering him. And he obviously didn’t want to burden Jensen with it. He couldn’t see the way Misha looked at the cab door at the end of every ticket check longingly and spent a few minutes weighing up going in before coming to the same conclusion every time, sighing heavily and going back to over think in the train’s rear cab.

What Jensen could see though, he couldn’t make out from this distance. It looked like something was on the line. He was much too far away to define it. He blew the train horn in hope that, if it was say a small animal it would get scared and run off. Or if it was anything else for that matter, it would at least be alarmed. He’d been through enough today, a bunny suicide was the last thing he wanted right to deal with right now. The horn sounded again, and Jensen began to slow the train down. The closer he got the more detailed it became until Jensen could tell it was a person on the track. One more sound of the horn and the person made a motion to move off the rails. Jensen wasn’t risking that. No suicide attempt, whether it be by bunny or human was happening on his watch. He braked hard, only for the person to carry on across the track, like they were crossing the road. Jensen could see they were on their phone. He was speechless. That had never happened before. To anyone he knew.

“Jensen, are you alright?” It was Misha, he was speaking through laboured breaths, like he’d just been running as though his life depended on it, and literally burst into the cab, “This… This isn’t a line I work often but am damn sure there isn’t a signal here and you blew the horn a few times which is unlike you, and the brakes. You never apply that much pressure you’re…” This was the only time Misha slowed down. His whole speech before was done on a single breath. Jensen’s raised an eyebrow. Misha continued, “…Gentle and -”

“Mish” Jensen cut him off before he dived into another mega monologue, “It’s fine. I’m fine. J-walker”

“On the line? That’s ridiculous!”

“It’s fine. Are the passengers alright?”

“I think…” Misha looked a bit shaken up.

“Check… Please”

“Okay, I-” Misha didn’t move. It’s like the effects just washed off Jensen and passed to Misha. Well, Jensen’s a superhero y'know? Can’t show pain in front of your adoring public, right? And if there’s a chance someone else is in danger you don’t give in. That’s just the way Jensen was. Check the passengers first, I’ll be fine just bleeding to death from where I banged my lip. The whiplash will go away in time.

"Misha.” Misha looked up, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “Please…?” Misha nodded slowly and turned to leave. Every movement he made from then on seemed to be done extra slowly. Jensen watched from the open cab down, saw Misha bend down and check over 2 or 3 passengers, before turning back to the matter in hand. The J-walker was long gone. Jensen sighed. He just had to carry on, the incident had caused them to be 7 minutes late. They ran the risk on being sidelined for the goods trains through Dinsdale junction. That could be a 20 minute wait. No time to lose then.

As it turns out, the delay had caused them to be late for their passing signal at the junction. But the on duty signaller had said the goods train had be sidelined for another late running passenger train, and hadn’t make it to the junction yet. Jensen forgot to ask why that meant they couldn’t move yet. Problems with the points jamming here were apparently a regular occurrence. Misha appeared, and Jensen fills him in on the developments. Misha asks all the questions Jensen should have, and Jensen just repeatedly tells him; “I don’t know. Reasons.” and “to shut up Mish!”

Which Misha does, for a few minutes.

“But what-”

“Mish, please”

“I was just going to ask about-”

“Please. I’ve got a headache and I don’t wanna talk about what happened back there, okay?”

“How did you kno-?”

“Shut it” Jensen glanced sideways at Misha to see him looking down at his feet. He suddenly grinned wildly before reaching over and grabbing the microphone. He informed the passengers that a point failure has caused them to wait for 20 minutes.

“How can you be so sure it’s 20 minutes?” Jensen asked when Misha stopped speaking into the tannoy.

“Because,” Misha smirked, “20 minutes is all I need to-”

“To do what?” Jensen gulped as he felt Misha’s eyes rake over him.

“Cure you of your headache, of course” Misha smiled innocently, but Jensen catches a twinkle in his eye that tells him at least part of him should worry.

“You sure the… thing” mumbled Jensen, as he pointed accusingly at the tannoy, “is off”

“Course. You want it on? Y'know, give in to your whole exhibitionism kink you’ve got going on?”

“It’s not my… thing” Jensen informed him absently. To which Misha just nods, and smiles.

“Sure, no, I mean you’re for lips, right?” Misha winked and continued before Jensen could answer, “Because, that. That I can do.”

“You’re going too-” Jensen gulped. He looked at the space between his legs and then back at Misha raising an eyebrow.

Misha seems to understand what point Jensen’s trying to make, “Oh, don’t worry about it, boy. I’m very good at tight spaces”

“I bet” Jensen replied flatly, to which Misha, after another wild grin, got down on his knees.

Jensen shuffled round to give Misha better access to his trousers, mentally tells himself to remain calm. He flips between willing the signal to go down and it to stay up longer. Like last time he was corner by Misha and groping on the express occurred. Sex at work was on people’s bucket lists, right? He could tick that off before he’d even written out his bucket list. And was there a club for that? Like sex on a plane is joining the mile high club…

Misha takes his time, of course he does, arsehole. He palms Jensen through his work trousers; strokes his thumbs in slow careful circles before he even aims for the belt or zipper. Jensen sucked air through his cheeks and willed himself to stay calm.

“What’s up with you? You’re normally at least leaking pre-cum just at the thought of having me” Misha teased.

Jensen wanted to say something. Anything. He knew Misha’s teasing; he’s half hard from Misha rubbing him and the thought of joining the train version of the mile high club. Or that maybe they’d get caught, maybe they won’t; that’s sort of pushing him higher.

Misha finally released Jensen’s cock from his ever tightening trousers. But he’s really working Jensen; he’s not removing Jensen’s pants. Oh no, he’s going to use all of those 20 minutes he’d given himself. He began blowing cold air over Jensen’s hardiness. Jensen doesn’t know what to think, or feel. He felt himself going deeper and deeper into the lust fog. He gets pushed further and further in with every breath Misha takes.

When Misha finally pulls his cock free, Jensen is leaking pre-cum. Misha still favours blowing rather than sucking or stroking. Well, Jensen thinks absently, it is called a blow job, and that’s Misha summed up right there. That’s his humour. Probably just playing Jensen for the hell out it. Some kind of weird game he’s playing, and Jensen’s fallen for it. Not that he cares. It feels too good. That’s probably the lust fog talking.

Misha’s roughly grabbed his cock, which forces Jensen to violent shiver out of the fog. His eyes found Misha’s, and of course the smug bastard is grinning. He continued to smear the pre-cum up and down Jensen’s length, slowly. Really slowly. And aside from driving Jensen crazy, it pushes him back into the lust fog, at a new height this time.

Jensen felt his head roll back as Misha tells him he wants to get it all wet, and how he is going to take every second he asked for. Like Jensen didn’t know that already.

“Plll-leeas-please” Jensen managed to breathe out at a surprisingly steady pace.

Misha finally took Jensen into his mouth. He takes Jensen whole before pulling back agonisingly slowly, tongue swirling around as he does. Jensen thinks that maybe he does have a mouth fetish after all. He also thinks that he sees the signal drop telling them the line ahead is clear, but his eyes roll back into his head, as Misha’s tongue rolls across him. Jensen felt so close to the edge, but wanted to enjoy Misha’s lips and mouth.

His hands found their way to Misha’s hair, he rubbed in circles at first, mirroring the movements of Misha’s tongue. His fingers twirled random strands of Misha’s hair. He hummed in pleasure, then remembered his place and bit down hard on his lip to stop anymore, as Misha flipped from faster to slower and Jensen felt like he’s was going to explored.

Misha is really using all the 20 minutes, and Jensen lets him, because he thinks, maybe, he does have a mouth infatuation. Well, maybe he doesn’t… Maybe it’s just Misha’s mouth he wants to fuck. Well, he doesn’t even want to fuck it, he’s not roughly pulling on Misha’s hair, forcing himself further into Misha. He’s letting Misha take him as Misha wants. He’s close. He has been for a while, but he doesn’t want to let go of the feel of Misha on him.

Misha sucked longingly. He’s still going mind numbingly slow as he works up and down Jensen, and he takes Jensen whole every time. He glided along so smoothly, all that wetness working well in his favour, but he doesn’t rush it. Doesn’t want too.

Jensen moaned; a warning to Misha that he can no longer hold back. He needed his release. Misha released his cock from his mouth with a wet pop and grinned before giving Jensen permission to cum. Jensen whined over the lack of touch, so much so he almost missed Misha’s words. He gathered his thoughts just as Misha’s lips resumed their attack on his cock, and everything went right out of the window again, as he fall deeper into the lust fog than ever before.

The lack of touch and then feeling again drove Jensen wild, he could no longer hang back. He mo longer cared how much like a horny teenager he looked. He came, and Misha swallowed with a massive grin on his face. Of course Misha swallowed. Arsehole.

Misha gave a little time for Jensen’s breathing to return to normal before he stood up. He ducked his head to check the signal. They still have time, he thinks. He’s just the conductor though, what does he know. Jensen noticed him looking, coughed and sat up.

The whole thing had left him and Misha with unruly hair, which Jensen took too long to admire. Misha guessed this was a sign he’d been right about what the signal meant and moved to grab the tanyo; got to keep the passengers up to date y'know? It’s the conductor’s job. Jensen absently noted Misha’s eagerness to do his job, but stopped him before he could.

Misha’s eye go wide. In his mind, he hears Jensen tell him it’s his turn, and his attention turned to those lips on him; how that would feel? What Jensen would look like all flushed with unruly hair. Well, Jensen’s flushed, but his hair is practically perfect. But Jensen just nodded out the window. The express is pulling up. They shared a look before bursting out with uncontrollable giggles.

“We got time” Misha said, after his breath slowed, “You want round 2!”

“No.” Jensen informed him, rather harshly. “It is your turn, but not right now” he gestured to the signal, now showing the line was clear, not that Misha saw or cared. Those lips were going to be his very soon. How could he do anything knowing that?

Somehow he made it to the end of his shift. Both him and Jensen did, without another word, giggle or motion to their actions and spoken promises. There wasn’t much time to discuss them after shift either. Apparently a passenger had been tweeting about the broken signal and the actions taken by the railway staff during the trip.

Misha gulped and Jensen blushed upon hearing that. That’s how their manager phrased it when he collared them into the office as soon as they arrived back at base. He was simply referring to the J-Walker incident; Jensen’s heavy braking was a matter on which they could be sued, apparently. Misha stuck up for Jensen; offering explanations throughout their 'telling off’. Misha’s not in trouble, apparently he’s action were worthy of merit. Jensen scoffed; the onetime Misha actually does what is in his job description and they want to give him the Noble Peace Prize or something. 

They aren’t in trouble. They just have to explain why it took them almost 2 and half hours to a trip normally done in half that. They seem to get by blaming the signal and points. The on duty singaller had apparently rang ahead, which helped their case.

Jensen hadn’t been let off as lightly; he was told to report back to the office after his morning shift tomorrow. Misha gets away with murder, he really does. He does the tiniest bit of work ever and they want to give him employee of the month. Still, he’ll worry about that tomorrow.

Misha and Jensen left the inquiry in a fit of giggles. Misha repeated the words’ your face’ to Jensen over and over.

“And when he said the actions of the rail staff, you blushed like-”

“Alright, shut up, Mish!”

Misha straightened up, decided against asking the obvious, are you alright, but there’s nothing else in can say. Fuck it! He commits to it.

“Mish, I’m just tired. It’s be a really long day, made even longer by” Jensen gestured to the train parked at the station, “And I really just want to go home for some-”

“Tea?” Misha interrupted.

Jensen’s face lit up. “Yeah,” he smiled, “How did you… Oh, never mind. Just-”

“Mine at, like 7 or something?”

Jensen cocked his head to the side in questioning. His mouth made the motions to speak, but again found himself lost for words. “Yesss” he said at length after what seems like too long.

Misha grinned, but this one felt to Jensen, as though it was softer, more genuine. Not the smug grin he often flashed when performing sex acts or talking about them. A genuine happy grin from a contented man. And it made Jensen smile the same smile, before he realised he had no idea what just happened there.

“Erm, so… Where do you wan… Meet you at the train station at half 6?”

“I’m glad you said that. I’m not sure I know the way to my house from any other part of town” Misha laughed. Jensen did too but stopped laughing sooner.

“Yeah, so, alright then!”

“Yeah, good then!” Misha repeated.

“Yeah”

“Yeah, so… You might wanna hurry up if you’re going to make that date at 6” Misha said nodding to the clock behind them.

“Well then, lead the way”

“I just have to stop off and pick up a few things first.” Jensen followed Misha to the shop but waited outside for Misha to 'pick up a few things’.


	4. Tickets, passes and fares, please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen felt that lust fog feeling he always did whenever Misha was around him. He went weak at the knees, falling to them when Misha let go of his work shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEX HAPPENDS!! Yays! I wrote sex… But it probably sucks so don’t get too excited! :P And Misha marks Jensen with his teeth… :/ I really put Jensen through hell… Domestic!Fluff and some jealous!Jensen…
> 
> Apparently I love guys in waistcoats… :/ Also I’m rubbish at train references with the titles… Sorry!
> 
> Previously; _“Yeah, so… You might wanna hurry up if you’re going to make that date at 6” Misha said nodding to the clock behind them._
> 
> _“Well then, lead the way”_
> 
> _“I just have to stop off and pick up a few things first.” Jensen followed Misha to the shop but waited outside for Misha to 'pick up a few things’._
> 
> __

Misha shoved Jensen up against the door, the force causing it to slam shut. Jensen’s work bag is forced from his hand due to the shock of being pushed, and Misha strips him of his overcoat, and his own, then locked the door with a wink. Jensen moaned into the deepening kiss, as Misha stripped him of his blazer and waistcoat, and slackened his tie.

In true Misha fashion, he began to stroke Jensen’s cock to full hardiness. Jensen felt that lust fog feeling he always did whenever Misha was around him. He went weak at the knees, falling to them when Misha let go of his work shirt. He brought up his hands to palm Misha’s cock, but felt as though he couldn’t wait around.

He was as eager as Misha and didn’t bother to play him like Misha always did him. Misha was already biting his lip to stop a moan escaping; he was entering the lust fog. It was finally time for round 2. Misha would finally have Jensen’s perfect for cock sucking lips on him and he wasn’t going be denied it any longer.

He ran a hand through Jensen’s hair, gently tried to push Jensen’s lips upon him. Jensen pulled his trousers and boxer down in one quick moment and blew hot breath over it teasingly. Misha moaned that Jensen should stop playing around. Jensen looked up at him through dipped eyes, and a smile grew on before their faces.

“It’s not nice to be on the receiving end, is it?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Misha teased, “You’re not really giving me a lot to-oooo”

Jensen picked that moment to swallow Misha whole. And judging by Misha’s facial expression and the tug of his hair, Jensen guessed Misha really enjoyed and wasn’t expecting it. He grinned pulling slow away from Misha.

“Jensen, you’re so good. . . You’re just perfect in this position. You should always be like this. On your knees. Sucking cock with those lips. God, those lips.”

“Oh, so you admit you have a lip kink!”

“I’d admit to anything, if it means I get those cock sucking lips…”

Jensen almost giggled. He worked up some saliva and used his tongue to collect pearls of pre-cum from the tip of Misha cock. Misha was working his hair into a panic; tugging on random strands, pulling and twisting others. He spoke words of encouragement, not that Jensen needed it. He knew damn well the best blow jobs were long, slow and wet. He might not be able to make it long, Misha was already leaking at the thought of his cock sucking lips, or slow for the same reason, but he could make it wet.

He decided to take it slow at the start. He knew Misha wouldn’t last, but Misha had worked him up only to deny him of any contact at all, and teased him about ejaculating prematurely, way too many times for him to pass up on this chance to play Misha in the same way.

Misha’s tugs on Jensen’s hair became stronger; more needy and Jensen used this to inform him how well he was doing and how close Misha was to climax. Misha’s hand was completely lost in his unruly hair, he was playfully tugging as he told Jensen over and over how perfect he was; how this was the image he had of Jensen in his dreams every night. And Jensen swallowed down every drop of Misha.

It didn’t take long for Misha to spill his load deep down Jensen’s throat as Jensen took him whole every time. Jensen swallowed just before Misha grabbed him by his ever slackening tie, pulling him up on too his lips. Misha moaned as he tasted himself on Jensen’s lips. He took his time with a long and passionate kiss. He was really taking Jensen’s lips for that they were worth.

Misha took those lips from the front door to his bedroom. Jensen had somehow managed to strip him off his tie, and blazer, and had somehow managed to undone a button on the waistcoat. Jensen was still in a state of semi dress. Misha’s hands had gone from rubbing his cheekbones to stroking his hair. Misha was going to have fun, taking his time stripping Jensen of his trousers and boxers.

Jensen was almost slammed on the bed. Man, Misha really had a thing for that. Not that he cared; he whined at the lost of contact but he knew it wouldn’t be for long. Well, this is Misha; he probably has big plans for leaving Jensen untouched for a while.

Jensen smiled up at Misha waiting his next move. Misha was in ore of Jensen’s toned body. He began to slow run his hands up and down the slender body, which of course Jensen’s unconscious ramblings had told him the younger man would enjoy. Jensen was grinning, but he didn’t comment on Misha’s hands. Misha wasn’t disappointed, he was having the time of life exploring Jensen with just his hands.

He rubbed Jensen’s thighs, stroked his ribs, massaged his shoulder blades. Jensen held back a moan at the friction on his legs. His trousers weren’t devoid of him, Misha was still winning in the battle. This winding each other up, fight for dominance they had going on would keep them entertained for ages. They both knew when it came down to it Misha would win, but Jensen put up a pretty good fight. And Misha always enjoyed what he had to offer.

Jensen’s cock was growing ever harder. He moaned at the slightest moment of his trousers; the friction of his work trousers against it caused deep throat moans. Misha enjoyed every one, sometimes electing to kiss them away, which caused more friction against Jensen’s work trousers.

“You have to let me-” Jensen started but Misha cut him off with another kiss while his hands travelled south to palm Jensen’s now painful erection.

“Shush, Jensen!” he smiled. He straightened then, which caused Jensen to moan and groan a lot, and loud. If he could find the right words he’d tell Misha he was being an arse for denying touch all together after winding him up for some long. And that he needed this more than ever. Just to take off his pants and have his way. Jensen was up for anything, just as long as his ugly work standard trousers were not of the picture.

He should just remove them himself. Stop being lazy, start being demanding. But somewhere in their hearted passion was a silent understanding that undressing each other was better… For Misha at least, it meant prolonging his lover’s pain, and it’s not that Jensen’s calling him a sadist, it’s just that that’s what Misha likes…

Misha leaned over Jensen, reaching to a place Jensen couldn’t make out for his current position. Misha placed a small round tub on Jensen’s stomach and reached over him again. He was fiddling and cursing the mystery object while Jensen was distracted by the small tub on his belly. He took the tub and turned he his hands a few times. He’s not stupid, or naive; he knows damn well what it is. He ignored the worry he feels, decided to call it excitement.

He wonders if Misha just happens to keep his stuff lying around, but removes the thought before he begins to go off on a tangent and starts thinking about Misha’s other sexual habits. He realised, when Misha started laughing out loud that his whole internal dialogue had been vocalised.

“No, baby,” Mish winked, “These are the things I had to pick up-”

“You planned this?” again Jensen went to default bitch face mode, but he was smiling too. Misha didn’t know how to take it. He grinned and replied;

“No, but you need to be prepared, y'know? Just in case!”

Jensen nodded. He couldn’t really commit to an answer given that this was the first time he’d been here.

“Hell, I’ve been winding you up for weeks, Jen. If it’d hadn’t come to this I would’ve…” Misha trailed off.

“Drunk tea?” Jensen suggested. Misha raised an eyebrow, and Jensen continued throwing out random suggestions, “Baked me pie?”

“You love pie!” Misha shot him an accusing look, “Say you love pie!” he somewhat demanded when Jensen didn’t reply.

Jensen chuckled, “That has to be, by far, the worst thing anyone has ever said to me in bed, ever!”

“Then give me a chance to redeem myself” Misha winked and rolled his hips, “I’m sure my hands are very talented. But I’ll leave that for an expert like you to judge.”

Jensen was momentary lost in that comment. Misha had inflicted many of his kinks on Jensen, and Jensen had come around to the idea of a few of them; he understood the attraction even if he didn’t feel it himself. However, this apparent hand kink of his was different; he felt that - as Misha ran his hands up, down and all over his body - Misha previously, he would freely admit to having a hand kink if it meant always being touched like this by Misha.

Misha rolled his hips, working up the friction between the two of them. Jensen would end up bleeding from his lip again if this was going to continue for much longer; he felt himself leaking already, smearing cum into his pants. Misha already thought he could get Jensen leaking worse than a back street’s plumper’s plumbing just from working passed him. Jensen didn’t need or want to do anything that Misha could actually use to wind him up further; he’d never live it down.

Biting back the moans was one thing, stopping himself from having his much needed release was another thing. Misha was having the time of life. The friction had caused him to be fully hard, again, and he was applying the condom and lube so liberally. Jensen would moan, would tell him how much he needed attention right now, like Misha didn’t know already, but he couldn’t. He should have guessed really, him and words around Misha…

Misha smiled down at him and whispered something in his ear, all husky and low. Jensen couldn’t focus on the words; Misha bending like that caused so much friction and pressure where he need pleasure to be. He felt a hand move between them. Misha’s! He began to loosen the belt and Jensen moaned encouragingly. Finally!

Now free of his pants and trousers, Jensen had no shame in rolling his hips and leaking all over Misha. He no longer cared if he came; at least it might stop the throbbing pain from down there. Misha grinned as he grinded down, rolling his hips and causing a few somewhat high pitched moans from his lover below.

Misha put him out of his misery; he had started to leak pre-cum into the condom at the sound of Jensen’s moans, and he really wanted to enjoy this. He let his hands glide over Jensen’s body once more as Jensen’s moans started to form what sounded like ‘please Mish’. He rested his hands on Jensen’s hips; he’d have fun tickling that spot later; allowing his fingers to explore every grove and muscle there.

Misha wiggled; lining himself up with Jensen. He applied more lube telling Jensen he didn’t want to hurt him. And Jensen may have replied that he just didn’t care if Misha did or not, all he wanted from Misha was what Misha was denying him, but y'know Jensen’s way with words when he’s around Misha. Instead he wiggled forward too, adjusting himself so he could almost force Misha in with roll of his hip, and an arch of his back.

Maybe Misha was wise to his game, maybe he didn’t care either way, he just grinned and dived for Jensen’s exposed neck. He bite down hard, sinking his teeth into Jensen’s skin, just as he pushed forward and entered Jensen. Jensen’s moan sounded like heaven to Misha. He had planned to take Jensen’s mouth and attack it, but was glad he went for the shoulder; that scream was perfect and also he’d marked Jensen.

The feel of the flesh beneath his teeth made Misha believe he was the first to ever mark Jensen he such a way. He’d ask, but really he didn’t want to be disappointed if Jensen said no. At least if he didn’t air the thought, no one had to know he got off on it. As Jensen wiggled and moaned beneath him, trying to get a steady rock going, Misha moved to his other shoulder and bite down twice as hard.

He admired his handy work from afar as he and Jensen set a pace that was both steady and enjoyable. They both moaned and grunted in pleasure, and Misha would occasionally run a thumb or his tongue over the marks that were forming on Jensen’s shoulder.

Misha enjoyed watching the bruise slowly change colour almost as much as he enjoyed Jensen’s sex face. He couldn’t help but grin as he grinned down and hit Jensen’s G-stop everytime. Jensen’s hands were hovering between like he had no idea what to do with them. Misha would give him a few hands, but he secretly enjoyed that Jensen wasn’t going to jack himself off, and was going to come from just Misha being inside him.

Misha knew, as did Jensen, that they were actually lucky to get this far before Jensen had offloaded. Misha was close too; of course Misha would require more work than Jensen, he’s an arsehole like that. He told Jensen has much, to which Jensen lightly giggled and repeated through laboured breaths that he too was close.

Jensen came first, no surprise there. He spilled his load over their stomachs with a long heaven sent moan, that forced Misha to come deep inside him, in the condom. Jensen moaned as he felt Misha fill him. His arms came up to wrap around Misha, after he had untangled his fingers from the sheets below.

Misha was grinning, and so was Jensen so much so he didn’t moan like Misha thought… Mish hoped he would when he pulled out. Misha was grinning at his handy work; the art he’d made of Jensen’s shoulders when suddenly his eyes turned dark and he disappeared.

Jensen felt something wet and warm across his hips. He rolled them playfully as he realised Misha was licking them. Misha told him, when he giggled, that he 'was removing the seeds of their love’ which made Jensen full on laugh. Jensen’s hands automatically went into Misha’s hair. He had unruly sex hair, random strands of apparent fringe had stuck to his forehead with sweat, but Jensen’s twisting and twirling would make it worse than the wind ever could.

Misha popped back up into Jensen’s line of sight. Jensen’s fingers were still working Misha’s hair; he grinned at Misha and Misha told him that they should probably move to clean up, especially since some of Jensen’s load had spilt on to his work shirt and waistcoat.

Jensen sat up instantly, he blinked at Misha a few times.

“You’re still… You still have clothes on”

“I have a lazy boyfriend,” Misha informed him.

“Hey!” said Jensen, he wasn’t sure they’d had this conversation and now probably wasn’t the time given his alarm was set to go off in a matter of hours. Until then, he should enjoy that Misha referred to him as his boyfriend. He rubbed his shoulder; it certainly felt like Misha had marked him that way.

“My lover clearly has a waistcoat kink” Misha corrected. When Jensen didn’t say anything, still distracted by the boyfriend comment no doubt, Misha continued. “I never thought the whole idea of a kink focused on clothes would work. My understanding was when the clothes went, so would the kink. That there would be nothing driving that passion forward if the object of desire had been removed. But you’ve changed my understanding of that Jensen. I feel now, like I’m a bit partial to some fully clothed, or partially clothed,” Misha looked down at his waistcoat, “sex,” he finished.

“Or y'know? Groping?” he continued after a moment’s thought, “So, thank you very much, Jen” and he smiled into a slow and tender kiss. Jensen mumbled a faint you’re welcome at his lips; he was unsure why he was being thanked for being a 'lazy boyfriend’ but… ah! that word. It would’ve send him off to sleep with happy dreams if Misha hadn’t wiggled out of his gasp. Apparently the cum covered waistcoat took precedence over his sleepy 'boyfriend’.

Misha returned, naked with a warm flannel in his hand to find Jensen asleep already. He smiled to himself, and remembered the lazy boyfriend comment. He left the cloth of the bedside table; Jensen could easily take a shower in the morning to wash away anything Misha’s tongue missed.

#

Jensen let the water run for a while; it being Misha’s shower he couldn’t judge the water temperature and speed. He intermittently checked using a hand, but as the bathroom filled with mist he knew it was time to get undressed and get in.

In the shower, after he washed his body and hair, Jensen turned about himself several times in a bid to try and maintain water distribution. The water got hotter as he showered; the bathroom was filled with more smoke from the heat. Jensen thought he heard a floorboard creak from somewhere in the house; he should get out the shower and greet Misha. After all, Misha didn’t need to be up at this time.

He’d wash his hair and then be out, he decided. He reached for the shampoo, and the overwhelming smell of apples hit him hard. It was Misha’s smell; his hair always smelt strongly of apples when it was all fluffy with natural curls and lift as if it had only just been washed. This explained it, Jensen noted, half-hearted. The smell was something he already enjoyed.

He could blame the heat of the shower, the smog clouding his mind, the overpowering smell of the apple shampoo, the ridiculously early start; morning haze and the fact he was still tired… Whatever Jensen choose to blame in hindsight, at that moment, he felt he was no longer alone in the shower. Thoughts clouded his mind, as the steam had done his vision. In his morning haze and daydream like state, Jensen thought Misha had stepped into the shower with him.

Jensen felt a hand wrap around his ever growing hard-on, not realising it was his own, he began pumping his cock to thoughts of Misha doing just that. The shower felt hotter as he pumped faster and faster. He moaned Misha’s name.

Totally lost in his own fantasy, Jensen pumped and moaned, faster and faster, louder and louder. The shower was so hot against his skin. Not so hot it hurt, but lovely and hot. Misha being there in his mind, made the shower feel so much better than any he had. The apple shampoo only added to the illusion.

Misha had this effect over him, despite the fact his head was in a far off place and he couldn’t see a thing, that much was clear. Misha seemed to make everything so much better, bigger, hotter… Whatever. Misha just brought out the best in everything. And this was just how he imagined it would be every night before he closed his eyes. Misha’s hand was applying the same amount of pressure that Jensen did with his own.

'Oh no!’ he sighed heavily as he heard a floorboard creak elsewhere in the house, 'I can NOT be masturbating in someone else’s shower!’ He bit down hard on his lip willing himself to stop; stop pumping his cock, stop moaning like a whore. Just stop. A fear washed over him.

The shower suddenly became colder and Jensen felt the shiver run through his whole body. He bit his lip, in silent prayer that Misha wouldn’t come in. All the thoughts of Misha coming him and surprising him turned from pleasure to horror. He wanted little more than Misha to stay away.

The shower became warmer and warmer. That and the fear of being caught speared Jensen on to end his shame. He came in his hand, hot and hard, as the warm water beat down on his back. He stayed like that for a moment, limp cock in his hand, calming his breath, slumped against the wall…

His breath now under control, Jensen just had to pluck up the confidence to get out the shower. Go into the cold of the morning, to Misha and his mocking, knowing grin. He circled around himself, checking himself over for any tell-tell signs, before getting out and putting on his work trousers and shirt. He’d have to disturb Misha to get his blazer, name badge and waistcoat, he thought as he dressed quickly… Oh, and socks.

Jensen found Misha waiting for him, cup of tea in his hand and a smile on his face.

“Morning”, he grinned, as though he never had a bad morning in his life. Trust Misha; even has perfect mornings.

“Morning” Jensen replied, trying not to sound too groggy. “I… I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning” Jensen continued, blushing as he tried not to sound to disappointed that his shower fantasy hadn’t been reality.

“Yeah, well,” smiled Misha, “I thought I better see you get off alright this morning”

Jensen gulped, hoping the blush would fade; he had definitely gotten off alright… In the shower, as well.

“The shower alright?” Jensen did a double take. How much of him was readable? Misha had those eyes that stared into your soul, like he knew all your secrets. “I’m sorry,” Misha was saying, Jensen forced himself to zoom back in, “I had to turn the water on to make the tea. I heard you in there, but…” Misha’s pause made Jensen re-question his facial expressions, “But, y'know last night I promised you tea” Misha smiled.

“Well, thank you,” Jensen smiled. Misha handed him his waistcoat and socks as he moved to sit next to him, and Jensen repeated his thanks. Misha smiled back brightly.

After he finished his tea, Jensen dressed into his work waistcoat and blazer, while Misha busied himself with random household chores.

“Thank you for that,” Jensen said.

“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. Like I said I just couldn’t see you-” Misha turned from washing the cups in the kitchenette to find Jensen mumbling and cursing his name badge. He had stabbed his finger twice and was now sucking on the damaged finger when Misha finally came over to him.

“Let me,” he smiled. He adjusted Jensen’s waistcoat and tie, flattening the collar perfectly, telling Jensen he was born in the barn or something before fiddling with the name badge and straightening that, with a smile. “As I was saying,” he continued, “I couldn’t just leave you alone in my house. Especially since you can’t put on a name badge” Misha half giggled.

Jensen mumbled something about how early it was, and the ridiculous work hours, which reminded him to ask Misha about his schedule.

“It’s on the fridge,” Misha smiled, “Check it, I just have to…” He stood back, looked Jensen up and down smiling, “Perfect!” he grinned. Jensen gulped and thanked him. Misha disappeared into the bathroom and Jensen went to check Misha’s shifts.

He recognised the timetable. They were the same set up as he got from work. Jensen usually checked the board and wrote his duties down on any scrap of paper he could find, as they appeared there; wiggles and all. Misha apparently just ripped the sheet off the board and stuck it to his fridge, with a pineapple shaped magnet. Deciphering Misha’s timetable was proving difficult for him though. He couldn’t claim the layout was different; he’d seen hundreds of these since he started working for the train company. He’d stick to blaming the morning; he’d only been up an hour or less, and already it was a morning he’d rather forget.

“Half 2” Misha called out from somewhere behind him. “I start at half 2”

Jensen turned, mouth dropping in silent questioning. If he knew what time he finished already, why had he sent Jensen to the fridge to work it out in his hazy state.

“Oh,” he said, trying not to sound to disappointed, “But I… I finish at 11, then I have the meeting at half 12… I’ll be home by then.”

“Aww, you’re calling this home!”

Jensen blushed, “I, erm-”

“It’s alright. I know what you actually meant. But secretly, I’m blushing and wishing it was actually your home”

“Well, erm… We… We just don’t have time for this now”

“I know” said Misha, not even trying to hide the disappointment he felt. He pouted as well, adding to the scene.

“Well then, I best be off… Erm, thank you once again for-”

“It’s alright” Misha smiled, as Jensen turned to leave. “Oh Jensen,” he called. Jensen turned back to him, only to find he was being pulled by his tie on to Misha’s waiting lips. He smiled into the kiss; he could get used to this.

“It’s for luck” he told Jensen when he broke for air, “For the meeting”. Jensen smiled and mumbled his thanks into Misha’s open mouth.

When he pulled back, Misha looked Jensen up and down, before adjusting his tie again.

“You did that” Jensen smiled, before Misha could say anything. Misha just grinned, all comments about him being born in barn already forgotten.

#

Jensen’s meeting went as he expected. It was a psych evaluation under the disguise of a general meeting to discuss your happiness. Jensen hadn’t realised it had been that long since the incident but the train company were too keen to establish if he needed any more time off to 'recover’ or if it had been affecting his day to day duties.

Since the incident Jensen hadn’t been left alone on a train. He had wondered after saying as much whether it was a conscious thing or had it just been chance. He told them what he’d been telling them since the attack; he was fine and ready to go back to work. He hadn’t experienced any fears, lost non sleep over it and was doing just fine. Of course the events of yesterday had caused them to re-question Jensen on his stance.

He wanted to be a train driver all his life. One idiot walking across the track and two (or was it three), stupid heads trying to get a free meal weren’t going to stop him. He hoped he conveyed this clearly the 8 times they asked him; he really didn’t want to be doing this. They’d delayed the meeting for an hour with no explanation, probably thinking it’ll teach Jensen how the passengers feel about waiting around all day, like he didn’t know already.

He was finally allowed to go; it had taken so long, Misha was just getting ready for work. Not that Jensen had remembered about Misha. He was pissed the interview had taken up all of this day for nothing. It was that reason for his pissed off attitude he was going to use when he saw Misha and Misha would ask him to explain and he’d reply no…

But when he saw Misha, he had more reason to be pissed. Misha stood in the centre of a small group of people. It was clear from where Jensen was standing that he was flirting. This was Misha, he was always flirting. But the group was laughing along; throwing their heads up in a position only your dentist would see you in, their hips square with Misha’s, the girls where twirling their hair like teenagers around their crush; their whole language and Misha’s suggested a little more than flirting was going on.

Jensen had seen Misha like this before. Hell, this was Misha; his nature is to flirt, and Jensen’s been at the receiving end of that too. But really, this was close to a fully dressed, non touching porno movie. Maybe Jensen was over thinking, but given the morning he’d had Misha could be there waiting, naked for him and he’d still find something about it to be pissed at.

Although, Misha would be there for him, and that’s what he felt like he needed. As soon as he saw Misha on the platform there, he realised a hug wouldn’t go a miss, and he’d probably stop being a 'sour face’ if only Misha was there for him. Jensen realises he is jealous. But who can blame him, after the night he spent with Misha, anyone would be thinking they were owed a lot more than the view he was getting right now of his boyfriend and A N Other.

He tried to attract Misha’s attention. For at least a smile and a wave in his direction might settle him. He hoped Misha would see him and come running. But alas, Misha responds with a small half hearted wave and that rips Jensen up. Why doesn’t Misha remember it was this interview; he could have lost his job in there? Why doesn’t he care? Why… Why does Jensen care? Actually. If Misha doesn’t, why should he? Because Misha may have admitted he used Jensen and Jensen should just enjoy the sex he got, while he got it, and burden no one but himself with his problems. It was probably better that way. He hoped he and Misha were worth more.

Jensen stood around waiting a little. He has no idea why, but he is glad he does. When the train pulls up and the group dispersed, Misha comes over to finally, finally greet Misha. He’s all grin and charm, still laughing at what was probably a very unfunny joke, and Jensen is just not having it. He’s not going to ignore Misha, but he is going to make him pay for his attention. Because Misha’s made him wait, and Lord Misha’s time precious don’t you know?

Misha asked a series of questions about Jensen’s day; he leaves out questions about the interview. Jensen knew Misha didn’t really care for him, in that moment. He’s mind was made up then, Misha saw him as just sex. He was a fucktoy and jealousy wasn’t a good trait for that.

He wanted to play Misha at that game, but he was too tired. The interview had wore away what was left of him after his stupid early start and Misha hadn’t help, and still wasn’t helping. He was on his phone now, texting or tweeting away. Just pay attention to me, Jensen felt his whole body scream. Then he snapped.

He grabbed Misha by the collar of his overcoat and pushed him into the timetable/passenger notice board. Misha wobbled a little a first, but found his feet. He had shown some concern for his phone, but Jensen was in his face and he soon, quietly placed it in his coat pocket and smiled at Jensen.

“Don’t” Jensen spat. “Just don’t”

Misha raised an eyebrow but questions weren’t forming. Jensen noted Misha’s lips moving but no words coming out. He’d got a verbal keyboard smash out of Misha. And all it took was to slam him about for a bit. This information would be noted and used in matter of sexual contact when it came to that, but Jensen was just too pissed for it to occur to him. More transference on Misha’s part. This dude has too many kinks.

“Don’t bother trying to convince me that you weren’t enjoying that back there…”

“Jensen, you don’t think… You’re-”

Jensen pulled back a little, before slamming Misha into the board again.

“So what if I am? I thought you and me… Hell, I don’t care. You could at least have asked about my interview went!”

“Well,” said Misha with a half smile forming, “If you’d just let me explain”

Misha could see Jensen weighing it up. Jensen let go of his tight grip on Misha’s coat and allowed him to adjust, and explain himself.

“I could see that you were pissed and I-”

“Piss off, Mish!” Jensen spat, pulling his best bitch please face.

“You said you’d let me explain. If you’re not going to listen…”

“You’re going to try and bullshit me into thinking you actually care!”

“Actually,” Misha looked a little disappointed, not that Jensen could pick up of it; blinded by rage. “I wasn’t. If you weren’t going to listen, if you thought I’d only tell you what I thought you wanted to hear why did you bother letting me have time to explain?”

It’s a fair question. If Jensen wasn’t going listen; was only going to criticise everything Misha could say, what could Misha say?

“I don’t have time to this!” Jensen declared, he noted Misha staring at his feet before he turned to walk home. His actually proper home that he’d not seen for two days now, when wham!

And Misha had turned it around, and Jensen was again thrown up against something. That was defiantly Misha’s thing.

“I’ve just made you mine”, he whispered deep and low in Jensen’s ear, “What makes you think I’d just give that up for a bunch of hussy train drivers?” he questioned, eyes staring straight into Jensen’s. His eyebrows quirked, daring Jensen to reply. Jensen just gulped and motioned to Misha to put him down; he couldn’t feel the floor.

Misha let go, and Jensen straighten himself out. Apparently Jensen’s mood had rubbed off on Misha.

“So…” Misha said.

Jensen repeated the word. Misha was back in his face. Jensen felt his head hit the board again, but it was his own reflexes he had to thank for that. Misha begin to thumb over a love bite on Jensen’s neck he’d placed there last night, and he repeated his earlier question as if to emphasise the point. He didn’t allow Jensen time to answer before he launched into a full explanation.

“I didn’t ask about today, because I guessed it would be the last thing you’d wanna talk about. I get that I’ve been called into that office way too many times, and it’s just a big fucking joke to me, but to you, your work is your life. Like, I could never have your passion for a job, Jensen. But when I’m around you, it’s like I actually do want to work, but I also don’t. I want your passion to rub off on me, but then I’m far too taken by your beauty,” Jensen scoffs, but Misha continues, “And I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want this job to break you. So I didn’t ask because if it was a big deal you would have said first. Hell, I think there’d be no train station left if you were forced to leave. And I just… Jensen, I would never… I want us to be exclusive, Jensen. I don’t know if I could-”

“Flirting’s in your nature, I guess I could cope with that. Since you’d be coming home with me every night, right?”

“There’s that word again,” Misha smiled brightly. Jensen mumbled an explanation about how it was just an expression which fell on deaf ears. Misha turned away from him, thought for a moment then turned back with a huge grin on his face.

“What?” said Jensen, some panic evident.

“I just really like you Jensen,” Misha grinned.

“Yeah, I get that. But jeez, you shouldn’t throw me about like that” Jensen commented adjusting his waistcoat.

“O, but you love it Jensen”

“No. Not with… Stop turning all your kinks on to-”

“Jensen, look, I really have to go. Just… Don’t get jealous, okay. It’s not attractive!” It apparently turns Misha into your sassy gay best friend too. Jensen laughed to himself, Misha didn’t question it; just leaned forward and whispered something about how attractive Jensen is naked or in some position, probably on his knees, knowing Misha, Jensen is just too distracted by that thing that’s pressing into his hand.

Misha pulls back, grins and says his goodbyes, before rushing off to his conductor duties. Jensen looked down into his hand and smiles. He turns the object over in his palm, it catches the sun and reflects a summer glow, like Jensen feels his face is, despite the cold weather. Misha had just given him a key.


	5. Thank you for traveling with us, Enjoy your day.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jensen” Misha whined eleven minutes into their hour journey, “Jensen, last night we never got to have hot angry sex.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Benedict returns. Doughnuts are mentioned. More sex happens… And apparently some fluff! The boys end up in the managers office and we all know what that means…
> 
> Title is from shit the conductor actually says on my route! He also warns you that scary men are in the station demanding tickets becuase the ticket gate is broken. He thinks he’s so funny! Bless him!
> 
> Previously; _Misha pulls back, grins and says his goodbyes, before rushing off to his conductor duties. Jensen looked down into his hand and smiles. He turns the object over in his palm, it catches the sun and reflects a summer glow, like Jensen feels his face is, despite the cold weather. Misha had just given him a key._

Misha unlocked the door to his flat with a big grin on his face. He was all but ready to yell, ‘honey, I’m home’, but decided against it, knowing the day Jensen’s had. He walked into the flat to find Jensen sleeping on his sofa, a box of doughnuts on the coffee table across from him. Misha just has to laugh; doughnuts! After all the time he spent with Jensen the only thing he reminds is 'We need to get back to base before all the doughnuts go’. He realises he does really love Jensen.

He looked across at the sleeping man, and wonders what he dreams about. Given Jensen’s day, the horror of the interview and all, Misha’s thoughts lead him to wonder how dark Jensen’s are. Does he ever spend time thinking about what might have happened had he not seen that J-Walker? Does he start panicking every time he steps on a train, or is left on one out of fear that he’s going to get round 2?

Jensen let out a sleepy contented sigh and Misha ignored all previous thoughts of Jensen’s dark thoughts. He looked at him again, smiling. There is no way that man has a dark thought in him. He sighed before getting up to make a cup of tea, and put the doughnuts away. He lingered about Jensen, enjoying the man’s contented pose. He slept like an angel. Misha laughed at himself, and dismissed the comment. That was the second time that day, Jensen had caused him to do something he wouldn’t normally; say something he wouldn’t normally.

He set about making a cup of tea and thought about having a doughnut with it. No, he couldn’t do that to Jensen. Jensen brought him the doughnuts so he should be there when he enjoys them. He’ll tell him as much when Jensen wakes. And that brings him on too his next problem; does he just leave Jensen there? Does he move his sleeping boyfriend or leave him there?

#

Jensen woke to find Misha had reached a conclusion on whether to move him and he was now in the bed he woke up yesterday morning. This morning, however, Jensen was confused by the room. He couldn’t remember how he got there, or too Misha’s flat for that matter. He yawned, stretched, and tried to shake himself a wake a little. With thoughts of yesterday replying in his mind, he decided to skip the shower. Because, where was Misha anyways?

He found Misha sat on the sofa, across from two cups of tea, the same image he saw yesterday morning after the shower… No, forget the shower. Misha greeted him with the same mornings-don’t-affect-me way he had done then too. Jensen still felt groggy but replied his morning’s and extended his thanks for the cup of tea.

“Oh, thank you for the doughnuts” Misha said, slipping his tea.

“Ha! The doughnuts” Jensen laughed, “It was a ploy to get you home faster. You always wanna,” Jensen threw up air quotes, “get back before the doughnuts are all gone.’ So I thought, I’d bring you some here and-”

“And use a doughnut like a giant oversize, sugar covered cock ring?”

“Misha!” Jensen blushed, “No, I meant to just simply bring you home quicker.”

“That would have a brought me home quicker” Misha winked.

“I don’t doubt that” Jensen said, still taken aback about Misha’s suggestion.

“I mean a text, or” Misha continued, “a picture and I would’ve derailed the train to get here quicker.” Misha continued to slip his tea, eyes fixed on the morning weather report, like the conversation they were having was normal for this time of day.

“Mish! Shut up! I’m not doing that with a perfectly innocent doughnut. They’re for eating” Jensen correctly informed him, “Not for… I have a feeling you’re going to put me off a lot of food- things. A lot of things” Jensen corrected himself. Misha had such a dirty mind.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Jensen decided, “you didn’t get home any faster. Or eat any of them”

“There’s that word again,” Misha hummed to his tea. Jensen hummed back; they both know what he meant. “Jensen?” Misha’s tone suggested the conversation was going to take a more serious direction and Jensen panicked.

“What time are you at work?” General questions like that always worked well for turning the conversation and were distracting too.

“Same time as you. Look, Jensen we need to talk about-”

“The same time as me!” Jensen looked surprised. Misha guessed Jensen didn’t actually care for the answer, so he thought to try and have this conversation again when Jensen was out of his morning haze and not so worried he was going to miss work, because Misha had reset his alarm. What? It was annoying at ridiculous o'clock.

“Yes. Same time. So, go get dressed!” he slapped Jensen’s knee playfully. 

When Jensen returned, Misha was adjusting his name badge in the morning, and straightening his tie. He gave up on the tie when he noticed Jensen grinning at him out of the corner of his eye. He turned to find Jensen holding out his name badge. Misha laughed, but took it from him and put it on all the same, while Jensen automatically went to do up his tie and straighten his collar.

“What’d you do without me?” Jensen wondered aloud.

“Hey, I can tie a tie all by own!” Misha mockingly sounded like a 3 year old, “Not like you and your name badge,” Misha said while standing down to check it’s straightness. “What would you do without me?”

“I can put on my badge y'know? I did it plenty of times before meeting you!” 

"Ah, so then you’re just using the badge as a ploy for me to touch you…” Misha winked.

“No, no, I’m more than happy to go around nameless for a time,” Jensen smiled. Two can play that game Mr-I’ve-done-a-tie-up-every-morning-with-you-since-forever-and-now-you’re-here-I’ve-forgotten-how!

“Or, you could borrow one of mine”

“You’ve more than one?” Jensen questioned.

“Yeah, one says 'Misha: training to help you’. The other says 'Senior Conductor’. I lost one once and that’s the replacement they gave me,” he informed Jensen.

“That’s nice!” Jensen replied. Misha was still moving his name badge, and patting down his waistcoat. Jensen knew he’d done it, Misha knew he’d done it. He just wouldn’t let go of Jensen. “But, really,” Jensen continued, “Who’d wanna be called Misha?” He pulled a face as pronounced each letter in turn, “Misha!”

“Hey,” said Misha hitting his arm playfully, “I’m still here y'know?”

“Ah, so you are” Jensen replied in a mocking tone, then quickly added, “And we should probably be somewhere else!”

Misha raised his eyebrows. Trust him to it the wrong way…

“Hold on!” he called after Jensen. Jensen was already down the hall of Misha’s apartment building. He sighed, his whole body conveying annoyance. He turned back to see Misha grinning, waving the doughnuts about like they were the cure for the common cold or something.

“You’re taking doughnuts to work…?” Jensen said, like it wasn’t the stupid idea Misha had ever had.

“What?” Misha smiled, “I’ve done worse”

“You’ve done better,” Jensen argued.

“Look, this way, we can be delayed and I can still have my doughnut fix! It’s genius!!” Jensen sighed. “You,” said Misha turning to him, “are a genius!” and he kissed him in additional thank you.

#

“Jensen” Misha whined eleven minutes into their hour journey, “Jensen, last night we never got to have hot angry sex.”

Jensen raised an eyebrow as if to question, now, you what to do this now. We’re at work, Mish! But he said nothing, just hummed to show he was listening.

“But, think about it,” Misha continued, he stopped casually leaning on the door and came in the cab, taking the seat shotgun, “You were all moaning and jealous, and I was all fuck you, Jensen, I flirt with anything with a heartbeat, and we could have had so much fun fucking out the anger, jealousy and pain!”

“Mish! Are you sure you’re alright in the head?”

“Look, I’m just saying.”

“I know what you’re saying and you’re going to have to wait. The train’s not gonna drive itself y'know?”

“I know, but if you hadn’t have gone to sleep-”

“You should work my hours, then you’d get it”

“I did. I do!” Misha protested.

“Oh really,” Jensen questioned, “And what did you do after I left you yesterday morning?”

“I went back to bed and-”

“You went back to bed!” Jensen smiled. He’d won that one.

“Alright, so I might have cheated yesterday. But, I’m here now and awake. And I’ve done all my conductor duties”

“Well, well done you” Jensen said sarcastically.

“But Jen-”

“Alright, when we’re done here you can take me doughnut shopping and we’ll have hot angry make-up sex, if that’s what you want!”

“But I want the raw anger jealousy! You pushing up against a wall, eyes angry like you’ve going to punch me…” Misha ran away with himself, began to daydream. Jensen went back there, to yesterday and saw himself throw Misha at the passenger notice board. He tired to see himself from Misha’s point of view, but couldn’t. He half smiled to himself;

“It could be arranged”

“But there are such an ugly bunch on this morning’s train!” Misha whined.

“What’s with you this morning? I mean, that’s never stopped you before” Misha threw Jensen a hurt look, “I mean… How about you just bite over all the marks you made the other night. Make damn sure I know I’m yours, and make it so it’s the only man made thing you can see from space so the whole world can see” Jensen suggested to Misha’s delight.

He grinned throughout Jensen’s explanation. Stood up and exclaimed big yes!when he was done, and watched as Jensen smiled too. He was so happy with the promise that lie there, and wow, Jensen could really get kinky when it came down to it. He was proud of his man! He left the cab to go run off some of the excitement. And some time away from Jensen will help calm him before he had to meet the passengers at the next stop.

 

The train began to slow down, and Misha went through the motions in his head. He was sure they were at least another 10 minutes from the stop, well, no more than 5 if Jensen was speeding. He looked out the window; no, it wasn’t a station stop for this route. He’d have to go see what was up.

“I can’t do it, Mish!” Misha looked Jensen up and down. He wasn’t injured, which help calm Misha’s mind, but then had him worrying it was a whole different problem. “I can’t move the train. I think… I think the engine’s fucked” Misha raised an eyebrow, “The engine’s broken. We can’t go any further!”

Misha mind began to swirl with a hundred different questions, of course, Jensen remained professional. His natural worry for the passengers took over and he explained to Misha that they’d have to go back to base on the train coming in the opposite direction and a rescue crew would come and collect them. Misha nodded his understanding and made the announcement, while Jensen called ahead to warn them of the delay and base to tell them also. The next train was due on the very line they were blocking in less than 5.

All trains leaving from base now showed delayed. There was no word how long it would take to move their broken down train, so much to the disappointment of the passengers as the minutes turned so did the delay display. The 07:03 expected 07:15 and when 07:15 came and went it turned to 07:20 until that came and went.

Misha had explained the situation perfectly to the passengers. He got everyone off the train and across to the other platform safely. All questions were answered to the best of his knowledge. The train breaking down wasn’t something he’d experienced before, and he had no idea of the train’s inner workings, so all technical questions just got a basic reply of how unsure he was.

All passengers safely aboard the train going in the opposite direction, Misha ran across to be with Jensen. He didn’t want to handle the comments and embarrassment the conductor on that train would or could say, and really, he felt all his professional courteously had been spent.

Jensen was, as he expected Jensen to be, calm and alert. He was sure this hadn’t happened to Jensen before, but he was handling it so well. The passengers gone now, Misha began to show worry, but Jensen didn’t. He waited on board the train and the platform in turn. News was not coming. Misha began to grow inpatient. 

“Come here”, Jensen said, small smile on his face. He moved his coat over to cover Misha and himself with it. Wrapping his arms around Misha in a bid to try and keep him warm, Jensen told him that it would all be fine.

Misha’s bottom lip began to shake; questions like ‘how does Jensen know? How can he be so sure?’ where soon surely going to air. But Jensen connected their lips. Misha took the kiss greedily; he didn’t care that it seemed obvious that Jensen was only doing it to shut him up. Jensen was warm, and the coat was a cute touch; reminded him that Jensen was the fluff in their relationship which he couldn’t stop smiling about.

“We’ve been here an hour!” Misha complained after some time had passed with no word from either end, or about the apparent rescue effort.

“We’ve not been here an hour!” Jensen said. Jeez, Misha could be such a child at times. Jensen checked his watch, “In 5 minutes,” he said, Misha was going to finish his sentence but Jensen did, dropping a bombshell as he spoke, “we would have been here 2!”

“Two hours?” Misha repeated. Jensen nodded and repeated two hours, yes, Mish! You’ve been quite for 2 hours. Well done! Misha repeated two hours over and over.

“Jensen?,” he quizzed after thinking it over for a while, “We could totally have the jealousy/possessive sex you promised. Right here. Right now!" 

"Not on the platform, Mish!” Jensen checked left then right, a diesel engine could be heard in the distance. “I know you’re in too the whole exhibition thing…”

“I’m not!” insisted Misha.

Jensen continued, “Well I’m not either, and it’s too cold. And too be honest with you we’d start getting in the mood, then the breakdown train will come and it will all get very embarrassing and…”

“We’ve had sex at work before and-”

“Lorry!” Jensen sighed. Misha looked at him eyebrow raised. “The engine I could hear,” Jensen explained, “It was just that lorry.”

“So we might be here for some time?” Misha asked excitement growing.

Such a kid, Jensen thought. He’d have to defuse the situation before it got too big. Where did Misha get this crazy ideas. “I’ve already said-” he began, but Misha cut him off.

“Well, we’ll just skip the foreplay!”

“Mish!”

“We’ll do it on the train!”

“Mish!”

“We’ve done it before, not full sex, but y'know? We could adapt, and-”

“Misha!”

“What?”

“There’s a train coming…”

“You sure it’s a train?” Misha asked shuffling out from under Jensen’s coat.

“No, I think the gates are going down because there’s a bus going past!”

“I’m not in the mood for your sarcasm!”

“No, I know what exactly you’re in the mood for,” Jensen replied, then quickly added, “And the answer’s still no. Especially since the rescuers have finally arrived!”

#

Back at base, Jensen and Misha once again found themselves in the manager’s office. He’s moaning about the delay caused. It was massive - felt across the range of the train companies. The train to Eastern Park, and the express to the airport couldn’t get through. The Barton running after them couldn’t get through either, and in general the whole service had been terrible and delays were still being felt now, 3 hours after the event.

Misha tried to bite back a laugh; words such as massive and felt across, and other things only Misha’s mind could take the wrong way. Jensen elbowed him. Such a child! After his mega long rant their manager turned to them, in turn and offered them praise, saying the passenger thought highly of them, throughout they remained profession and waited in the cold with the passengers to ensure their safety and blah blah… Jensen elbowed Misha again. That was him the passengers were thanking. Jensen was the one to bare the bad news to the passengers waiting at each station, none would thank him for that. Misha got to put on a brave face and support and lie to them, and be loved for it.

The thanks didn’t last long and the manger was looking between them for an explanation, because apparently trains didn’t break themselves.

“How come whenever there’s a delay it’s always two that have caused it?” Oh, he’s back to ranting. Jensen shrugged his shoulders, wanting to tell him that if the train company cared they wouldn’t send them out on trains that belonged in a museum and then get upset when they, quite rightly, give up the ghost, decided against it; wasn’t in the mood. But Misha on the other hand, wasn’t going to hold back. Because actually, he waited in the cold longer than anyone, and he missed out on angry jealousy, and early morning before work… And actually at work sex, and this meeting was doing little but ensuring that the sex he was promised wasn’t coming any time soon.

“I was doing my job!” Misha defended himself, “What? You think we were fucking so hard we broke the train-”

“Mish” Jensen hissed in a whisper, elbowing him again.

“You’re fuuu- in a relationship?” the manager questioned. Misha was going to launch into another rant, Jensen could tell. He held Misha back with an arm and nodded as an answer. “Jensen, Misha,” he continued after turning to each of them, “There are rules… And…”

“Are you saying we have to break-?” Jensen asked.

“I won’t!” said Misha simply.

“No, you don’t have too, I’ll just have to separate you two. And no swapping shifts either” he said wagging his pen between them. “I’ll be checking.”

#

Jensen takes the news rather well. It’s Misha’s who’s still ranting and raving about how ridiculous it is. And how he’s going to swap every duty ever so that he’s with Jensen and there’s nothing any man in any suit sat behind any desk is going to tell him otherwise. Jensen chuckled. Misha was so wound up by the decision but he knew there was no truth their managers’ promise to check their work schedule. He knew if left for a week the manager would put them together on a shift. Misha wouldn’t be told.

“He’s not keeping me down like that, Jensen I tell you, he can’t-”

“Stop you from doing what you want, I know, I know!”

“I’m sorry, Jen, it’s just that-”

“I know what it is, but hey, look, you’re all angry and just in time too.” Jensen winked as they found themselves at the door to Misha’s flat.

“Yeah, and?”

“Jeez, Misha, what happened? You’re never normally this slow on the uptake. And I actual was hinting about sex this time”

“You were-oh!” Jensen swore he actually saw the penny drop inside Misha’s head. “Right! The hot angry sex you promised me. But I wanted you to be the angry one!”

“So, you could top from the bottom, Mish, please!”

“I just wanted to see you all fierce and rwar” said Misha, he made little actions with his hands to emphasise the point. “But now you’ve mentioned it…”

“Mish!”

They start at an unbelievably slow pace, for them; just kissing. There’s none of this dying urgency to strip off as quickly as possible and fuck each other into next Tuesday, which Jensen likes, but has the feeling Misha won’t. It’s not exactly hot or angry; it doesn’t have that passionate need to mark every inch. He waited; Misha will turn it around.

But apparently Misha was enjoying the fluffy side of their relationship more than he thought he would. Up until today with the whole coat business their relationship had been solely sex based. Misha had been forcing Jensen to masturbate in showers and public bathroom stalls before he never knew Misha’s name, and after. Before Misha had committed himself to full sex with Jensen, both of them had been wanking off to thoughts of each other like a couple of teenage boys. It was nice to be calm and slow rather than fire and passion.

Although, unless Jensen had really missed the point, the whole part of hot angry jealousy sex was to be all fire and passion. He wasn’t really feeling it now anyway; that need. Misha seemed calmer and Jensen certainly wasn’t jealous. So maybe they’d moved pass that moment.

Misha went to make a cup of tea, although he and Jensen both knew he had no plans to drink it. It was just a ploy to move. Going to 'freshen up’ would have been a more legit excuse. Jensen said just that after Misha. Misha just smiled at him.

“I take it that means you don’t want one? I still have some doughnuts left” Misha suggested.

“No, Mish” Jensen walked over him, he wrapped his arms around Misha’s middle and whispered in his ear, “The only doughnut I want is you.”

Misha giggled, turning to face him. “Jen, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me!”

“Well, I know what you do with doughnuts” Jensen winked.

“You calling me a cock blocker?” Misha eyes went wide in mock panic and surprise.

“I was just-”

Jensen felt Misha grab hold of his work shirt and tie. Misha forced his tongue inside Jensen’s mouth and pushed him with some brilliantly unappreciated footwork, back to the sofa. Jensen’s words were slurred. Like, why does he still try? He knows he loses the ability to speak in moments like this. Still, one does have to admire his persistence.

Jensen fell back over the arm of the sofa, but Misha was still advancing. He grinned his signature devilish grin and Jensen felt like now there was going to be some trouble. He enjoyed Misha’s actual, genuine smile for a while and now Misha had gone back dark side. Kinky stuff may be about to go down. And Jensen feared for the doughnuts.

Misha stripped him of his tie and trousers. Jensen was going to ask about the waistcoat but decided against it. Between quick passionate kisses, Jensen removed the same items of clothing that Misha had on him. Until they were kissing in their waistcoats with their cocks out; rubbing against each other causing moans of pleasure and neediness.

Jensen stroked Misha to full hardiness while Misha’s hand explored under the shirt and waistcoat of his lover. Misha knew what was under there. Had that mapped out and engrained into his mind since the first moment he saw it. But somehow having his eyes devoid of the pleasure made the experience feel new. It helped turn him on, not that he need any more help; Jensen hand was showing no signs of slowing down despite the fact Misha felt he couldn’t get any harder.

Jensen squeezed the tip of Misha’s cock, and collected the pre-cum that gathered there; he used it as lube and covered Misha in it. Misha was now attacking his neck; Misha had skillfully unbuttoned the shirt enough to expose the neck while keeping the waistcoat on! Boy, they should give him a medal for this genius things he comes up with. He was going over those lovely love bites he left last time they were here, but also creating new ones which he loved.

Jensen broke their contact to spit on his hand, apparently Misha wasn’t leaking enough to make the lube situation go away. Misha would suggest using Jensen’s but Jensen’s demanding attention be brought back to his lips. So Misha kisses him with full on passion while Jensen prepares him.

Misha’s not going to wait around this time. And when does Misha ever! He pushed into Jensen as soon as Jensen removed his hand from his cock. Jensen let out a moan, because he’s tight and hot and he wasn’t ready for that. Was half expecting another love bite or at least for the moan to be hungrily lapped up by Misha.

Misha enjoyed the moan, of course he does. Jensen sounds like… Well, Misha’s never heard anyone moan like before so he makes the most of it. He kissed Jensen with as much force and passion as he could muster before setting a rhythm they both got pleasure from.

Jensen still doesn’t feel angry nor jealous. But he realises he has been feeling something for Misha all day, that is now washing away that Misha’s in him. The unresolved sexual tension that had started in the morning when Misha had whined about Jensen getting up so late they missed morning sex, was now finally being seen too. It added to that fire and raw need that the previous kissing session had lacked.

The more Jensen thought about Misha’s moan that morning the more rage and drive came through. There was the need to be fucking instead of standing around enjoying each other’s warmth. There was the need to be fucking instead of standing around enduring a telling off from their boss. There was the need to be fucking instead of standing around waiting for the kettle to boil.

Misha felt it too and slammed hard into Jensen’s hips, knocking that UST away. He’d gone ball deep almost instantly and was enjoying the sound of his balls slapping against Jensen’s skin, coupled with Jensen’s whines and moans of pleasure. He allowed Jensen the pleasure of touching himself, as his hands where to busy, still having the time of their life under Jensen’s waistcoat, and also he moaned a deep and throaty moan that caused Jensen to roll his hips and arch his back in a bid to get him to make it again.

Jensen’s focus now became to make Misha make that noise again, so much so he forgot about himself. He knew Misha would do that; he’d already found Jensen’s G-stop and was working it to climax. Jensen’s hand were pushing Misha’s arse on to him. He was encouraging Misha as best he could; the need to hear that noise too much to bare now.

Misha came first, which surprised even himself. He moaned that deep and throaty moan as he did before. Two rewards for Jensen for holding out as long as he did. Jensen dug his nails deep into Misha’s arse as he comes moments later; the warmth and feel of Misha inside him pushing that extra inch over the edge.

Misha wasted no time in dragging Jensen up by shirt collar, into a passionate kiss of silent thanks. Jensen stumbled a little, finding his feet as Misha’s kiss take them both further and further through Misha’s flat. Misha’s talented footwork and Jensen’s somewhat clumsy effort following suit, took them to the bedroom and after being thrown on the bed, Jensen begins the process of preparing Misha again.

They are both surprised how quickly their cocks are ready to play again. The tension that they both thought had been left at the train station where they broke down was obviously not gone. It was the neediness for hot and angry, and jealousy and possessive sex that speared them on. Neither of them felt angry nor jealous, but they were both having too much fun. It was hot and Misha was being way possessive as always. New bites and even nail makes showed up on Jensen’s pale skin, before the heat had caused it to turn a shade of red.

 

Jensen got off surprisingly quick. Misha thought he would’ve come first again but was more than happy that Jensen had spilled his load first. Jensen and Misha had taken off their waistcoats and work shirts on the way the bedroom; Jensen would later use that has his excuse for coming first. Misha’s hands were free to explore Jensen’s body, as were his eyes; they raked over Jensen’s lean stature as Misha pushed deep inside of Jensen, and Misha teeth, tongue and nails joined the party of his skin.

Misha left their two sticky bodies. They’d shower in the morning… Maybe together. Misha should suggest it when Jensen comes around. But for now he’d leave them. He knew they were both spent. Both of them had come twice that night and poor Jensen looked like he’d done 3 rounds with Wolverine and a blood sucking mutant. Those scars, Misha would have to map out during morning or shower sex. It was the thought of that that sent Misha off into a deep sleep; his arm flung over Jensen in blissful peace.

#

Jensen woke the next morning to, once again find himself left alone in Misha’s bed. Didn’t Misha like ever need to sleep? Did he just wait? Jensen gathered his clothes from the night before, they were spread across two rooms and the hall. His travels didn’t reveal Misha’s location, and he couldn’t hear the shower running. He checked the fridge. Misha was at work.

Oh great! Another day of Misha moaning at him for the lost of morning sex. In his defence, Misha could have woken him, like he did last night after a toilet trip and had given Jensen the since-you’re-awake-eyes and had him come twice more, on top of the two he’d already done. That should be enough for Misha, right?

Actually, Jensen thought as he made his way to the bathroom to clean up, it wouldn’t. And he decided he’d buy some doughnuts, because they become a joke between the two of them now, and surprise him at work.

#

Nerves filled Jensen has the train neared. He was getting on one stop after base; as it turns out it’s both his and Misha’s hometown, and Misha lived closer to the station then him. And yet he’s the lazy one? Jensen has no cause to be worried. He’s seen this sight hundreds of times before. Even before he was a train driver, as a kid the sight would fill him with glee, and now he was worrying. What for? He knew it was Misha’s train. He knew Misha would love a visit from him at work. Look, he’s got doughnuts!

He decided one stop after base would be good. People he knew and worked with would be crawling about the place and y'know? People talk. And their boss too. He knew his boss would forget in time, but it had been less than 24 hours and knowing the sad low life boss of his, he probably masturbated to thoughts of Misha and Jensen doing it at work! Yuck! Jensen vanished the thought! He was here to see Misha. Bring out the fluffy side of their relationship and laugh over doughnuts the Misha had planned to do over pie all those many moons ago.

He smiled in reflection as the train came to a stop. He had to get on before Misha noticed him on the platform; he’d get away with not being seen on the train since, to Misha, this was an ungodly hour and hell, even if it wasn’t Misha never checked tickets anyway.

Jensen was right. He saw Misha help a pregnant woman and her 3 year old on and then disappear into the train’s rear cab. He saw his chance and took it. Being a member of staff he had the knowledge to get in that little room. He formed a plan, but found it useless when he got to the door; Misha hadn’t lock it. The tool he was trying to fashion out of a used ticket was redundant.

He was about to knock, but he’s staff. Misha often just walks him on him and hell, he’s got doughnuts. He opened the door, smiling brightly.

“Mish-aaaah!” Jensen suddenly went high, but in his defence, the man that greeted him the cap was Benedict. Fucking pompous Benedict! Jensen checked and doubled checked that timetable; that stupid pineapple shaped magnet mocking him for not getting it the first time. He moved his mouth trying to form the name Benedict, then he heard Misha’s voice.

“Jensen,” he smiled as he showed his face around the door. “Oh, you brought doughnuts!” he noted as he looked Jensen up and down. Jensen was just staring at Benedict, mouth moving up and down in time with Misha’s eyes.

“Wh-What’s-?” The doughnuts hit the floor with a small thud, it was the only sound in the space between. Jensen’s eyes flicked between Misha’s grinning face and Benedict’s questioning one, Misha’s flicked between Jensen and Benedict, and Benedict’s flicked between the doughnuts, Jensen and Misha. None of them knew what to say.


End file.
